iSay I Do
by coffee-stained lips
Summary: A viewer sends in a challenge for Sam and Freddie: pretend to be married for a week! Response to a challenge by angels.02.music
1. Prologue

**This is a response to a Seddie challenge by angels. 02. music. This prologue was written by him/her, not me. Everything else will be mine, though. This bet is going to be unexpected, you can bet. And I know this is my fifth unfinished story, but I devoloped an idea so great I had to write it! I promise I will give my four other stories the same amount of care.**

Sam, Carly, and Freddie all sat in the beanbags in the iCarly studio, obviously bored.

"I'm going to go get some iced tea. You guys want anything?" Carly asked as she was about to board the elevator.

"Nah." Sam and Freddie said simultaneously.

"Okay." she said as the elevator door closed, leaving the two behind in the studio alone. The two stayed there in silence until Freddie gave a small worried chuckled.

"Whatcha chuckling at, dork?" Sam said as she turned towards Freddie and his laptop.

"Some comment one of our viewers wrote." Freddie said as he turned the laptop to face Sam.

_Sam and Freddie always seem so caught up in arguments and bets sometimes…I wonder how they would deal with a challenge. I think it's a good idea to have a challenge for the next iCarly, for these two, Carly could judge and monitor and maybe you could like tape some bits of it and post it on the iCarly website. Hope you like this idea! –Andrea_

Sam pulled back from the computer, a large grin forming on her head. "So…a challenge." Sam turned to Freddie who was also grinning widely, deviousness evident on his eyes.

_5 minutes later…_

Carly walked in the studio carrying a cup of iced tea and sipping contently when she noticed the quiet atmosphere. She looked around and saw the two sitting on the beanbag chairs shaking hands, both with evil, devious, planning glints on their eyes.

She gulped. "Uhm guys…is this what I think it is...?" Carly asked nervously.

"You haven't seen anything yet, Carly." Sam said as she dropped her hand, the glint still very visible in her eyes.

"Absolutely nothing yet." Freddie said with the same glint in his eyes as he gave them a wave and walked out of the studio.


	2. Challenge

**Alright, _this_ one was written by me! :)**

Carly nervously watched Freddie as he left the studio. The devilish look in his and Sam's faces had spooked her. She could just smell one of their famous bets being cooked. She hated it when they made bets; after it was over one would be sullen and the other smug. She really didn't like it when that happened.

She set her iced tea down on Freddie's tech cart and marched over to Sam as she sat on a beanbag, the evil wheels whirring in her brain. Placing her hands upon her hips, Carly said "Okay, what is it this time?" Sam looked up at her with a smirk and stood, holding Freddie's laptop.

"A viewer sent Fredbag and me a challenge," she explained, "We couldn't pass that up, could we?"

"Let me see the e-mail." Carly said, grabbing the laptop from her friend. Sam pointed to one of the many fanmail letters, and Carly clicked it. She scrolled through as she read it and then turned to Sam angrily.

"How could you accept this?" she asked, "It doesn't even say the challenge!"

"Freddie replied to her, and she'll e-mail us the requirements after." Sam said. Carly shook her head in disbelief. How could Sam say yes to a challenge when she didn't even know what it was? Of course, Sam didn't have a lot of common sense. But Freddie did; and he had agreed also.

Speaking of the boy, he appeared again in the studio with a juice pouch, sipping the apple juice from it. Carly rounded on him, glaring knives. He gulped at the ferocity in her gaze; when Carly got mad, her wrath was terrible.

"Freddie, why'd you accept that challenge without knowing what it was? !" she yelled. He merely smiled.

"Because, the _last_ time Sam and I had a bet, she squirted water down my pants!" he said, "I'm ready for payback."

"Good luck, geek." Sam said, stepping near him, "You're going to need it." Freddie scowled at the blonde and she returned the expression with a smirk. Carly sighed at her friends; the challenge could've been to jump in a shark tank and they would've still done it just to get back at the other. Their rivalry was very exhausting for Carly, the referee.

She set the laptop back on Freddie's tech cart and refreshed the page. A new e-mail had appeared from the same address as the challenger. She beckoned her friends over, telling them of the reply.

"Prepare to be humiliated, Benson." Sam said, walking next to Carly.

"After you, Puckett." Freddie responded, going to stand at Carly's other side. With a sigh Carly clicked open the e-mail.

_Awesome! I knew you'd accept. The challenge is this: I challenge you two to pretend you are married._

Freddie gagged on his juice and Sam yelled "What? !" Carly couldn't suppress her giggles; they had accepted the challenge, and now they had to be married. It was too, too funny. They continued reading.

_It must last a full week. No backing out. You must follow the rules. If either of you do not, you'll be forced to face the consequence, which is this: if you lose and/or back out, you must, live on iCarly, get dosed with a bucket of paint by the other. And you must wear your most precious clothing too._

"Oh, Mom will kill me if I get my church pants dirty!" Freddie cried, rubbing his temple. Sam rolled her eyes at him, and Carly snickered again.

_Okay, the rules are the following: on the first day, you must be a couple. On day two, Freddie, you will propose to Sam and Sam, you have to say yes. On day three, you will have the wedding with a large crowd. Day four you will move in together—_

"I have to _live_ with him? !" Sam shouted, "Are you freaking kidding? !"

"Shush!" Carly said, scrolling to the rest of the message.

_Day five Sam will experience a fake pregnancy. Day six you will raise a fake baby. Day seven you will have a visit from your "child"—all grown up—and his or her family. If you both make it through, I will give you each a hundred bucks (my father is a millionaire, by the way). If one of you loses, you know what happens. If you both lose, Carly will be the one who dumps paint on you. She will also judge; if one of you steps out of line, she'll know and tell me the loser. No cheating or favorites, Carly! Also, I will give you the supplies you need should you need any.__—Andrea_

The message ended there. Sam and Freddie's jaws were at the floor and Carly's mouth was filled with laughter. She exited out of the page and turned to face her best friends.

"Well, this will be a very fun week, eh?" she giggled. Sam's eyes received a dangerous glint and she glared at Freddie with the ferociousness of a tiger. He gulped and backed away slowly, afraid more of Sam's wrath than Carly's.

"How could you say yes to that? !" she shouted, grabbing the collar of his shirt and shaking him, "How could you say yes to us being fake husband and wife? !" Freddie screamed as Sam shook him and Carly had to step in and yank him away before Sam could do any damage.

"You _both_ agreed." she said, "And you can't back out, or you'll get paint on you." Sam looked at Carly with anger.

"You wouldn't." she growled.

"Oh, wouldn't I?" Carly said, smirking. Sam shifted her glare back onto Freddie, who went behind Carly in fear.

"Fine." Sam said, "Whatever." She pushed past her two friends and stomped angrily out of the studio. Freddie turned to Carly after she left, looking scared.

"You're not seriously making us do this, are you?" he asked. Carly gave him a smirk Sam would've been proud of.

"And deprive you of payback?" she asked innocently, placing a hand upon her heart, "Wouldn't dream of it." With a laugh she left. _They wanted this challenge so badly, okay, _she thought with joy,_ t__hey got it._


	3. Here We Go

**Sam's POV**

I stabbed the can of soup furiously with a knife I found in Carly's silverware drawer. I always had soup when I was really mad—like when I found out LeAnn Carter would win Seattle's beauty pageant, though she didn't. I couldn't believe I had agreed to that challenge! Why couldn't I have common sense like Carly so I wouldn't be stuck as Fredweird's wife? Life sucks.

Carly came downstairs as I got a hole in the can. She was in a fit of giggles, not even trying to be composed. I was tempted to stab something _else_ as her laughter invaded my ears…but no, I wasn't that mean. Yet.

"Oh, shut up, Carls." I spat, sticking a blue straw in the soup can.

"Why should I?" she asked as I sipped my soup, "_You_ got yourselves into this mess, not me."

"Yeah, yeah, whatevs." I replied. She _really_ had to rub it in? Of course she did.

Freddork—my husband-to-be—slowly came into view from the steps, anxiously looking my way in case I'd pounce. When I didn't he entered the living room but kept a good distance. Smart boy. I plopped onto the couch and drank the rest of my soup. He came over steadily, trying not to set me off, and carefully sat beside me—too close, might I add. I snarled at him like an animal and he scooted away to the end. Carly laughed again and we turned our eyes onto her.

"Man, am I going to love this week!" she giggled, "Who needs TV anymore?"

"Please, Carly," Freddie begged, "this is no laughing matter. Not when I'm married to _this_ demon." I turned my head to gaze icily at him and he gulped while moving even farther away.

"Oh, like _you're_ a bed of roses." I said, "This isn't any fun for me either, Dipthong." He scowled at me heavily and I gave a scowl back.

"Guys, stop it." Carly said, "You're in love, remember?" After that she gave a huge laugh, almost falling over as she clutched her stomach. I couldn't take it anymore; I flung the soup at her. She dodged it and it crashed into the counter, exploding and spilling soup juice all over the floor. She glared at me and I smirked at finally getting rid of her giggles.

"You really had to do that?" she asked. I nodded.

"Yup," I said, "I really did." I heard Fredlumps sigh with irritation.

"I'm marrying that." he said, staring at me, "Oh, someone kill me."

"Like I don't want to." I snarled. He glared at me. This was going to be a long week.

'~**~'

The next day for school I arrived at Carly's apartment at 7:00 like always. Inside with his backpack slung over his shoulder was Freducation, waiting for Carly too. I took him in: his hair was set in place like always and his green polo oddly made his eyes pop. He looked kind of cute. I shook this thought away in haste. _Ew, he's Freddie!_ I thought, _He can't be cute!_ But after thinking this, the horrible event of the day didn't seem so bad.

It was Monday and the first day of the challenge. Freddie and I would have to pretend to be dating all day, the first of horrid events to come. Acting like a couple wasn't so bad I guess; the following days were going to be the worst, after married life.

He grinned at me; the grin was a mixture of arrogance and discomfort. He walked up to me and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. He got close—_too_ close. We were practically joined at the hip, he was that close. And I'm not an affectionate person so it was very uncomfortable.

"Good morning, babe," he whispered in my ear. His breath tickled my neck and I shivered.

"What the chiz?" I hissed. He laughed like he'd won something big.

"Now, now, Sam," he said, "We're a couple today. Unless you want to back out of the bet right now, and get dumped with paint…" Ah, so _that_ was his game? Getting all flirty so I get disgusted and push him away? Well, Sam Puckett was not about to lose to a nub, even if I wanted very badly not to go through with the particular bet. He was the one getting paint all over his prized church pants, _not_ me.

"And stay away from you?" I said in a flirtatious tone, placing my hand to the one connected to the arm around me, "Why would I want that?" He appeared a little scared of me but caught on quickly, and gave me a stunning smile. Wait, no it wasn't stunning! It wasn't even cute! No…

"Glad you feel that way," he whispered, "because I'm not leaving your side _all day_."

"Can't wait." I said through gritted teeth. The idea of him being so close to me all day sickened me. And the fact it'd last a week didn't help.

Footsteps came from the stairs and we heard a "Whoa!" We turned our heads to see Carly with a disbelieving face staring at us. She slowly descended the steps, looking embarrassed too.

"Am I interrupting something?" she asked. I shook my head.

"Nope," I said, "I'm just following my part of the bet."

"Me too." Freddie said, "Wouldn't be anywhere without my Sammy." He gave me a cute grin and wrinkled his nose like a bunny…ugh, what's wrong with me? ! It's not like I'm crushing on the nerd; I'm purely faking it.

"Aw, so cute!" Carly exclaimed, going to the counter. _Hey, what is she doing? _I thought, craning my neck to see. I soon saw a camcorder in Carly's hand, aimed at us. Oh no.

"You're not going to record this, are you? !" I yelled. Freddie's grin turned haughty again.

"'Course I am!" Carly said happily, "That Andrea girl wants videos on iCarly . com. And you're so cute together!" I sighed but put on my best fake smile. I turned my head to face Freddie's, which was still too close for comfort. But I endured it best I could.

"C'mon, or we'll be late to school." he said, moving his head away from mine to my relief. Carly nodded, still recording us, and we left, Freddie still holding me very close.

**I know this still is a cliffhanger but I'm playing with you! Trust me, there'll be more soon.**


	4. Not in the Bag

**Freddie's POV**

I still couldn't believe I'd accepted such a bet. Sam and I were sure in a fix now. It sucked but there was no way I was backing down. I was going to push her buttons until she gave up and then I'd be victorious, and she'd be covered in paint. I was tired of losing, and this time I wouldn't.

At least, I hoped I wouldn't. Sam didn't seem intimidated by my flirts; in fact, she flirted back. I knew it wasn't going to be an easy task getting Sam to lose for she was very determined. But I sure as heck wasn't losing either.

The girls and I walked through the doors of Ridgeway High and every head turned to stare at us—mainly Sam and I, for we gave off a lovey-dovey aura by my arm around her. People started whispering and pointing; girls looked either saddened, maddened, or just awed. Most of the guys were in shock and admiration for me. I got to admit, it felt nice.

The girls went to their lockers and I stood by Sam's side awhile before going to mine, which was farther away. Sam seemed annoyed which made me feel smug. I knew having to fake being in love with me—a nub—would make her miserable. There was no way she'd win. I had it in the bag.

A girl walked up to us. She had on a blue basketball jersey on. Her hair was brown, but lighter than Carly's shade. It was done in a ponytail and she had freckles about her face, and was looking at me questioningly.

"Hey," she greeted, "I wanted to ask you something, Freddie." Sam and I both faced her fully. I wasn't sure what the girl was about to say but Sam looked like she did, and she wasn't happy.

"Yeah?" I asked.

"Well…I wanted to know if you wanted to go to a movie or something—" she started but Sam stepped forward.

"No, sorry, he can't." she spat, "The boy's with me." She then backed up and kicked my shin lightly, and I got her message. I put my arm around her waist and hugged her to me tightly. The girl was dumbfounded and kept switching her gaze from Sam to me.

"O-Oh," she finally sputtered, "s-sorry. I didn't realize…" Sam gave her an icy glare and she gulped. She began backing away as Sam's glare intensified. Then she just sprinted off to her other basketball buddies. Every other teen in the hall had watched the scene with interest and astonishment. I too was amazed; Sam had told the girl that we were together and basically to back off or she'd claw her eyes out. Though Sam _was_ supposed to be my girlfriend I was surprised at how good of an actress she could be. I might not have this challenge in the bag.

"Wow. Feisty." Carly said, smirking as she resumed putting her books away.

"Mama gets possessive over her man." Sam said, giving me a smile that somewhat caused me to shiver. But there was no reason to; it was a fake smile.

"No need to get into a catfight over me." I said, and her smile wavered, "You're the only girl for me." I hugged her nearer to me with my arm (it was still around her hips). I inhaled and her scent filled my nose: she smelled of bacon and honeysuckle. The bacon part was obvious but the sweet aroma of honey was unexpected. It was an appealing smell and I felt weak in the knees as I inhaled.

"Um, I better go put my stuff away." I said awkwardly, releasing Sam and moving away. Her scent was overwhelming me and I couldn't be so near to her with it lingering. She waved me off as I walked away but a devious idea popped into my head. It was evil and it might surely set Sam off. I turned back and walked over to her and Carly. They were talking animatedly with each other but stopped when I appeared by Sam again.

"You forgot something." I said, winding my arms around her again and pulling her to me. In a flash our lips had connected. Gasps chorused around us but all sound suddenly disappeared as I kissed her. She was a phenomenal kisser and I felt myself get weak holding her so close. I was relieved that she'd pull away and I wouldn't have these raging emotions but…she didn't.

She didn't yank away or even try to do it casually. Instead her arms went around my neck as she kissed me back, like she enjoyed it. I even felt myself enjoying it…_No, no, no, no, no! _I screamed inside my brain, _You're hating this! You're only kissing her for the challenge!_ But the kiss was explosive and wonderful, even if the girl was Sam.

When we finally pulled away I realized I was breathing heavily. We hadn't come up for air so the kiss had been lengthy. I still hugged Sam to me, meaning we were still dangerously close. Our heads were an inch apart. I hastily let her go and she stepped back, also breathing hard.

I suddenly felt someone bop me in the head with what felt like a newspaper. Rubbing the top of my head, I turned to see it was indeed a newspaper, being held by Mr. Howard. His beady eyes looked down on us and he looked murderous as usual.

"No making out in the hallway!" he shouted, spraying spit over my face, "You want to, do it on your own time!" With that he walked away, mumbling something rude about teenagers. Sam smirked awkwardly at having annoyed a teacher and turned to me.

"We will now, won't we?" she said, winking at me. I felt my face grow hot and even Carly looked embarrassed. Sam seemed supercilious at my blush and slammed her locker shut. Just as she did the bell rang. I groaned, realizing I'd be late since I hadn't put my books away.

"I'll meet you guys in class," I said, walking to my locker sulkily.

"Late, babe." I heard Sam say. Another shiver went up my spine with her tone. The crowd of students went to their classes as I opened my locker.

The day wasn't over and already I felt exhausted. We had announced we were "dating" and even had a make-out session in the hall! Wait, a what? ! _Ugh!_ I thought as I slammed the last of my books in my locker. Sam and I made out in front of everybody. Me and Sam! She didn't even back away, which made my original attempt futile. It was supposed to make her grossed out so she'd yell at me and lose the bet but she was smarter than she looked.

I walked to Mr. Howard's class, ready to be humiliated for being late. I knew whatever would be my punishment would be bad since Mr. H hated kids even more than his wife. At that moment the fact he hated his wife didn't seem so mean…

I entered the classroom to find him glaring at me, his arms crossed. Every other kid stared at me, including Sam. She gave me a flirty wink and I blushed.

"Late, eh, Mr. Benson?" Mr. Howard said, walking towards me, "All of a sudden you're a delinquent, kissing up girls and being late…" Snickers erupted around the room, from Sam too. Mr. Howard gave me a satisfactory scowl and I felt his hand clamp around the scruff of my neck.

"Get to your seat, Benson," he growled, shoving me into my desk, "and if I see your lips on anyone's face, I'll call your mother!" More giggles echoed round the room. My face flushed an even deeper pink and I sat down.

The class went on with Mr. Howard droning on and complaining that he didn't want to be here. I kept feeling as though I was being watched throughout the classtime. I was because Mr. H kept looking to me with a hateful gaze but I meant from the back. As if someone was staring at the back of my head.

Someone must have been because soon I felt something whap me in the head. I refused to turn, thinking it was some jock pelting me with spitballs for some reason. Later I got hit again. I still didn't turn. The third time I felt a flick in the head. It was different than what had hit me before, meaning it hurt more. I turned to see Sam holding out a piece of folded looseleaf paper. _Trying to pass me a note, _I thought, taking it. She flashed me another wink as I turned back, and my stomach did a flip. _It's only an act, _I thought, _She has no feelings, nor do you._

I nervously looked to Mr. Howard: his back was to us. Knowing I was safe, I carefully unfolded Sam's note.


	5. Notes Should Not Be Passed

**I noticed I'm flip-flopping from POV's almost in an organized manner. It's just a coincidence so don't expect Freddie's POV to come after Sam's. It might be that way just by coincidence but I'm just doing it as the story progressess. Whatever happens I'll go to the better POV. Just saying so you don't get used to it.**

**Sam's POV**

_I got Fredward good!_ I thought as the red-faced nub sat down. He was trying to get really flirtatious so I'd get disgusted and humiliated and back out, but I caught on. He even made out with me, thinking I'd beat him up. I hate myself for saying so but I just made out with him instead. Yes, I kissed Freddie Benson but it's so I don't lose. _He's a good kisser, though, _I thought. Ugh, I hate admitting that. At least I didn't say so out loud.

Howard started his rant and soon every kid had fallen into a state of monotony. I became undyingly bored, wishing Carly was in the class with me. It was the only class we didn't have together—how jank is that? The only choice for communication was Freddie. I wouldn't be caught dead talking to him usually but since we were "dating" I didn't have to worry about rumors. Besides he might crack if I said anything romantic he wouldn't like.

I quickly scribbled a message on a piece of loose-leaf, crumpled it, and—after checking Mr. Howard to see his back turned—threw it. It hit Freddie in the head but he didn't turn. Frustrated, I went to pick it up and threw again. Still he didn't turn. _He won't ignore Mama for long, _I thought, picking the paper up again. I moved my finger and thumb together and reached over to flick his head. He cringed and turned, thankfully. I outstretched my arm, the paper in hand, and he took it. I gave him a girlfriend-like wink for the heck of it, and he blushed again. I laughed inside; the only good thing about the challenge was annoying him. _And kissing him, _I thought before I could stop. I wonder if there's a doctor who removes irritating head-voices…

I saw Fredlumps writing on the paper. After putting his reply down, he twisted to face me and hastily dropped the paper on my desk and turned back around. Mr. Howard didn't notice for he was writing something on the board. I unfolded the paper and read his note:

_You don't have to be flirty. We're the only ones reading this_. I smirked, for my message had said _Hey, baby._ I was just messing with him (which was fun) but I'd cut him slack...Okay, I'm lying.

I wrote my response (_Whatever do you mean? I thought you loved me?_) and threw it atop his desk. He opened and read, and I sensed his eyes rolling. I chuckled at him as he wrote more down. It was apparently a long reply because he didn't pass back for a long time. I was getting more impatient with every passed minute. What kind of message was he writing that was so lengthy? I soon became fed up with waiting and leaned over to grab the paper.

Mistake.

Why it was a mistake was because Howard chose then to turn back to the class. He saw me leaning, my arm reaching for Freddie's note, and a scowl came onto his lips. He marched over to us and the room hushed. His arms crossed over his sweater, he raised one white eyebrow. Freddie and I looked up at him and he gulped.

"I should've known." Howard snarled, uncrossing his arms and snatching away the note, "Maybe you'd like to celebrate your relationship with Principal Franklin?" Freddie whimpered a little and I coolly went back to my original sitting position. As suckish as it was to get caught, I wasn't intimidated by a balding, Velociraptor-like man. Should've guessed Fredwimp would be.

We got out of our seats and followed him out to the principal's office. He kept the note tucked away in his pocket, and I glared at Freddie for whatever he wrote. He looked highly embarrassed, which is not good considering I had no idea as to what was on that note.

Ted's office was close to the room so we got there soon. Howard opened the door forcefully and shoved us in, Freddie actually landing on his face. I snickered at him and sat down in one of the wooden chairs instead of helping him up; just 'cause he's my BF doesn't mean I have to be sweet.

Ted was sitting at his desk and he sighed upon seeing me. Howard slammed the door shut behind him and Freddie staggered to stand; Howard pushed him in his seat once he had regained balance. He then walked to stand beside Ted and held out the note. The principal looked to me with a raised eyebrow, and then took the note with a sigh. I glanced at Freddork as he read: his face was tomato-colored. Soon it'd have new colors—black and blue—if he wrote anything bad on that paper. I moved my eyes back onto Ted and his face went from a tired look to a surprised one. He kept lifting his eyes to stare at Freddie and me, and then he'd look back down.

Finally he finished the note. Calmly, he refolded it and opened a drawer from his desk, and dropped it in. I saw a smile light up his features, the white teeth glistening against his dark skin. _Why's he so happy?_ I thought. I felt Freddie shift uneasily beside me.

"Thank you, Mr. Howard," Ted said, waving Howard off, "You may go back now." Howard's mouth was open and he seemed shocked we weren't in trouble.

"B-But they…they're delinquents!" he stuttered, "D-Don't they get…get in trouble? ! Or something? !" Ted just laughed at his spluttering.

"No, they're off the hook," he said, "You may go back now, before the rest of your class destroys the school." Howard glared at us, and then at Ted, and finally left in a huff. I grinned; we weren't in trouble! Wait…we weren't in trouble?

"Sam, you may go back to class too." I was snapped out of my thoughts by Ted's voice. I was confused by the fact we weren't in trouble and then I was excused but not Freddie. I rose from my chair and looked at the dork; he was sweating up a storm. I almost let out a giggle before realizing Ted would get suspicious maybe. So I left. Before I closed the door I saw Ted rise from his desk seat. Oh, Fredweird's in for it now.

Smirking evilly, I went back to Howard's room.


	6. An Unexpected Gift

**Freddie's POV**

I sunk down in my chair as Principal Franklin rose. He said we weren't in trouble, yet here I was, still in his office. He must've just said that so Howard would leave and now I'd get it. Oh, cruel world…stupid frickin' Andrea girl, getting me into this mess…

"Freddie—" he started, but I interrupted in one panicky moment.

"Sir, I apologize!" I yelled, my voice cracking, "I know I wrote that love poem but I can explain!" I was trying to get back at Sam for writing me that note; I wrote an embarrassing, mushy love poem that she'd get red in the face for. Then maybe she'd crack. It was worth a shot but now I was going to get in some seriously hot water for it.

Principal Franklin merely laughed and put a hand on my shoulder. He patted it and sat me back down slowly. He said "Freddie, you're not in trouble." My heart lifted up in hope; I was off the hook…the poem didn't get me in trouble! But then why was he keeping me here?

He put on a large smile and sat down on his desk, crossing his arms. He let out chortle and shook his head, making me confused. He seemed genuinely happy by my poem, something that interested me; why would Principal Franklin be happy about me writing a love poem to a girl? Or, was it because it was for Sam…?

"Freddie, I kept you here because I wanted to propose something to you." he said. I rose a perplexed eyebrow but didn't voice my confusion.

"Okay…" was all I said.

"I see by your, um, note," he said, pointing to the desk, "that you feel strongly towards Sam." My cheeks reddened again. I wanted to tell him that I truly felt _zilch_ towards Sam, and that this chiz was all just a bet. But my throat had grown dry to the point I could barely say my own name. Also, would admitting it was only a challenge make me lose? I couldn't take that chance.

"Sure…" I said croakily.

"Well, it reminded me of myself and my wife back when we were your age." he said, "I loved her so much then, just like now. And our relationship was pretty much the same too." He said the last sentence while laughing. _So you got stuck with a Sam Puckett too?_ I thought, a smirk forming on my face.

"Really?" I asked conversationally. He nodded.

"Yes," he said, "and, if your note means anything, you want to be with Sam like I wanted to be with my wife." _Great, he thinks I want to marry Sam for real, _I thought bitterly, hating myself for writing such a poem, _Well, at least it's part of the bet._ "And," he continued, "I want to help you, by picking out a ring for when the time comes." My jaw dropped open and my eyes bulged. Principal Franklin wanted to buy a ring for me to give Sam? Whether or not I truly wanted to propose to Sam, why in the world would he offer to pay? I couldn't accept that.

"Sir, no, you don't need to do that." I said, standing, "Really, I have enough—"

"Freddie, you've always been my favorite student." he interjected, "And I want you and Sam to be happy when the time comes for you two. The only way I can really show that is to buy her a ring for you."

"But…but sir—" I tried again but he put a hand on my shoulder and gave me a smile, making me quiet.

"I insist." he said, putting a hand on his chest, "Please. When the time comes for you and Sam to possibly wed, I want to do this. Let me do at least this." I opened my mouth to speak but no words came out, so I ended up just sucking in air while Principal Franklin went back to his desk. I had to tell him no, but my dang mouth wasn't working. So he must've taken that as a reluctant yes, for he gave me back the poem, saying "I'll see you soon, son." He flashed me another grin and went back to his seat, waving me off. Feebly, I waved goodbye back and left for the door. My hand gripped the doorknob, wetting it with my sweat. I opened the door and stepped out, but then I remembered. Very unwillingly, I turned back around.

"P-Principal Franklin?" I said, and he lifted his head, "A-Are you s-serious about th-the…the…you know?" He smiled again and nodded.

"Yes," he said, "When you decide to propose to Sam, I'll be ready with my wallet to buy that ring." I forced a half-smile and nodded back.

"Okay," I said, "Will you meet me tomorrow?"

**Sam's POV**

Fredpus returned soon from the principal's office. He missed Mr. Howard (lucky boy), so he had to get a nice warm welcome from Miss Briggs; meaning, she gave him a detention. But he told her he was with Ted, and she angrily took back the punishment.

We sat near each other like in Howard's class, only next to the other, not in front and behind. Instead of passing notes, I decided just to risk it and talk to him. I'll admit I was worried the nub had gotten into hot water. Though I hate him, I have a heart when it came to Freddie; he was still my buddy, even if we weren't the _best_ of buddies. I didn't want him to get in trouble when I started it all. But I'd _never_ tell him.

"What happened?" I whispered, and he turned to glance at me. He shrugged.

"Oh, nothing much." he said. _What? _I thought, _You get taken to the principal, and he does nothing?_

"What do you mean, 'nothing much'?" I asked, "He had to do _some_thing, keeping you there."

"He really didn't." Freddie said, "Just…told me to not pass notes." I saw the way he suddenly tensed after saying 'just'. He was going to say something else, I just know it. I was going to pry it from his mouth if I had to.

"Uh-huh, yeah." I said, "You don't give me enough credit."

"I swear!" he whisper-shouted, "Nothing happened!"

"Shut it, something happened!" I said, shaking him, "And I intend to know!" We got in a quiet argument, me shaking his arm the whole time. It probably lasted a long few minutes before a ruler came down on Freddie's desk, making him jump. We both looked to see a seething Miss Briggs retracting her large yardstick.

"Silence!" she yelled, causing Freddork to shrink back. I rolled my blue eyes and she stomped off to the front of the room. I glared at the dork and was about to whisper-yell at him again when a piece of paper fell onto my desk from the left. I saw, from the corner of my eye, blackish-brown hair whipping back; Carly. I grabbed the note and opened it to see a message in her pink pen: _Gibby and I are going to the Cheesecake Warehouse tonight. You and your BF should come too :-)_ I growled upon seeing the smiley face; she thought she was _so_ funny. I had half a mind to rip the paper to shreds. But I knew, by the challenge's standards, he was indeed my "BF", so I sucked it up.

I tossed the paper onto his desk and whispered "It's from Carls." He nodded to acknowledge me and read. After he was done he laughed.

"You know, she's going to get annoying this week, doing that." he said.

"'Get'?" I said. He chuckled and gave the note back. For some reason, I smiled at his laugh. It was kind of sweet and cute, though I hate admitting it. I shook this repulsive thought away and wrote my yes reply to Carly.

**Thanks for the tons of reviews! I never expected to get so many! Hope you liked this chapter!**


	7. Green Eyed Freddie

**Sam's POV**

I went to Carly's apartment after school. Fredwad was nowhere to be seen, thankfully. But neither was Carly. I made myself at home by sitting on the couch. I flicked on the T.V. in hopes of something worthwhile. Like always there was nothing on but _Totally Terry_. Gosh, I hate the Dingo channel.

Bored, I got up and went to the computer on Carly's counter. I figured I'd check out iCarly . com and read comments and chiz. What was odd was it was already on. I shrugged to myself, thinking Carly was reading comments too, and sat on the chair. The page was open to a video. It was newly uploaded so I clicked it. Once I saw what it was, I became murderous.

Freddie and I making out on the screen. Someone had recorded us kissing in the school hallway and had put in on the iCarly website! I knew Andrea What's-her-face wanted videos but come on! This was low.

I heard humming and saw Carls skipping down the staircase. Upon seeing me, mad as heck, she gulped. I glared at her dangerously, and she smiled weakly.

"Hey." she greeted in a nervous tone.

"Chiz, Carly!" I yelled, standing, "Why'd you put that video on here? !" She sighed and came by me, looking apologetic but at the same time tired.

"Because she wanted videos, and Gibby had gotten it on tape for me." she explained, "Besides, so what?"

"'So what'? !" I shouted, "Now everyone in the world will think me and the dork are an item! Think of the humiliation!" After uttering that last word, she just stared at me blankly. I felt like shaking her; what was with the blank stare? ! Was it not obvious? !

"Humil—Sam, the complete opposite would happen." she said, as though it were a simple math problem. I just stared back at her to show my perplexity and she sighed. She pushed past me and laid her hand on the mouse. Then she scrolled down to the comments on the video, and pointed a single finger at the screen. I decided to suck it up and read. I looked at the comments:

_OMG, this so rocks!_ was one comment from someone named Cupcake17. Another from someone called HPGirl said _Oh yes! I knew it would happen! Seddie for the win!_ I didn't understand the Seddie thing, but it was mentioned in all of the other comments. So not only did everyone think I was dating Freddie, but they all liked it! Except for some kid called Poppyseed who wrote _This sucks! Where's Creddie? !_ For some reason, I took an instant disliking to them, even though I had no idea what a Creddie was.

I looked away from the computer to see a satisfied Carly, who was staring at me expectantly.

"Okay, so there a few psycho kids out there." I said, "So what?" Carly rolled her eyes and groaned in frustration.

"Never mind." she said, but a grin was on her face now, "Anyway, let's go get you dolled up for the date!" Before I could say no—or anything, for that matter—she had grabbed my hand and dragged me up the steps to her room. Inside, she began hungrily digging through her pile of clothes, trying to find something. I was about to relax on her bed when she flung something at me, shouting "Hurry, hurry! Get it on!" Humoring her, I left for the bathroom.

A few minutes later, I stepped out of the bathroom in a long-sleeved white shirt that stretched to my knees, a bright-red belt with a huge buckle around it. I wore black pants and black heels, which were digging very hard into my feet. After looking in the mirror, I looked pretty. Usually I didn't look so hot because I always had on T-shirts and jeans, sneakers and hoodies. I didn't really think of myself as pretty because no guy would ever look my way and drool. 'Course if any guy looked at me funny I'd kick their butt so I guess it wasn't a big shocker. Still, it'd be nice if one guy thought I looked pretty.

Carly came downstairs shortly after I emerged from the bathroom. She had on black-and-brown dress with zigzag patterns and gold dots. It was a red carpet-worthy outfit. Carly always looked pretty. That's why boys wanted to date her over me. That, and the fact she was a heck of a lot nicer. It felt bad having guys push past me to get a look at her but it was actually better that way, I think. That way I'd know who Mr. Right was instantly when he chose me over Carly.

"You think I look okay?" she asked, modeling for me. I nodded.

"Yeah!" I said.

"Thanks," she said, "I just don't want to look bad for Gibby, you know?" If you haven't caught on, Carly Shay is indeed dating Gibby Gibson. We're not sure entirely how it happened, but it must've been a conversation about how much she liked his hair done-up all special, or something. I bet it made Freddie _crazy_—his crush and his best guy friend dating. It must've been painful having her choose weirdo, chubby Gibby over friendly, handsome…crud, my mind is going wacko with these stupid thoughts. Freddie was friendly but he wasn't handsome. Well, maybe handsomer than Gibby but not over any other guy.

"Look, chick, you do _not_ have anything to worry about." I teased. She gave me an alright-I-get-it look and I silently laughed to myself.

"I'm surprised you're not worried about looking hot for your man." she said, and my laughter became anger.

"Don't even go there, Shay." I growled menacingly, pointing a finger at her. She raised her hands in surrender. As I looked away the doorbell rang. _Already?_ I thought, moving my eyes to the clock as Carly hustled to the door. It said it was 6:00 PM, something that befuddled me. _Time goes by fast, _I thought.

I walked up to Carly as she opened the door. Behind it was Gibby in a white collared shirt with black slacks and a leather jacket. And—yes—his hair was specially done-up. Upon seeing him a smile came onto Carly's features and her eyes melted. Gibby gave her a grin and stepped inside, where he gave her a peck on the cheek.

"Hey, girls," he said, "Freddie here yet?"

"Nah." I answered. He stared straight at me then, looking over me like I was an alien object. It was a little unnerving to have him stare at me like that. If he looked any longer I'd have to pop him in the mouth.

"Who would've thought you and Freddie would get together?" he said finally, meaning I wouldn't have to punch him out of his trance. He didn't know it wasn't real? I looked to Carly; she shook her head. I believe she meant not to tell Gib, which was fine with me—I wasn't losing to Dipthong Benson.

"Yeah, who would've known?" I said through clenched teeth. Gibby was oblivious to my gritted teeth and turned back to Carls.

"Hope he gets here soon." he said, "Reservations expire in a half hour."

"Don't worry, he'll get here soon enough." she reassured, but her face was nervous. I didn't blame her. The boy might bail to get away from me. Then we'd be forced to drag him to the Cheesecake Warehouse by his ankles. That'd be fun…

But we surprisingly wouldn't have to do that, for you-know-who came into sight right then, dressed in about the same outfit as Gibby, only his shirt was red. He was nice-looking in that outfit, I'll admit.

"Hey, hey." he said, coming to me. I let the geek put his arm around me. A tingle went through my spine as he touched me. It was strange feeling but I dismissed it, saying it was just the unexpected warmth of his body.

"Yo." I said, turning my head away so I wouldn't see him. He chuckled at my aversion and I heard arrogant confidence in his voice; he thought he was going to win. I hate how boys always think they're right. I waited for him to stare at Carly in all her pretty glory but his eyes never strayed. It puzzled me; you'd think he'd be the first to drool at the feet of her, considering he had a mega crush on her.

Gibby had his arm round Carly in the same fashion, and his pudgy face contained a grin like Carly. Their happiness in Freddie's and my "togetherness" made me want to hit them in the face. Really, we weren't a good couple! Why did people think we were? ! For Pete's sakes, what's the world coming to?

"We ought to go, or someone else will get that table." Gib said. Carly agreed, and we went outside to the hall. Freddie and I lagged a bit behind the two. I took this chance to whisper to him without possibly losing the bet.

"You going down, Fredward." I hissed. He sneered at me, egotism and annoyance in that facial expression.

"No chance, Puckett." he hissed back. We glowered at each other then—he didn't look so intimidating…the complete opposite actually. He looked like a puppy trying to be ferocious when it was evident it wasn't.

"Sam? Freddie?" yelled Carly's voice. We immediately put on smiles and looked away from the other to see she was staring back at us.

"It's all good." Freddie said, and I nodded. She gave us a satisfied smile and turned back around. Then we resumed our glare fest until we reached the parking lot.

'~**~'

We arrived at the restaurant shortly after the drive. We were seated by a window with a lovely view of cars whizzing past on a crowded road (yes, that was sarcasm). The worst part was I was squished next to Freducation in the booth, while the lovebirds were happy being so close. It was the same uneasy closeness I felt earlier that day, when Freddie got flirty.

A guy about our age came up. He had on a Cheesecake Warehouse shirt, so he was no doubt our waiter. He was basketball-player tall with wispy black hair and cute freckles dotting his face. There was a gap in his front teeth but it was good-looking when he smiled crookedly at us. His brown eyes were gorgeous but I've seen better.

"Hi, I'm Finn and I'll be your server this evening." he said. He looked at each of us but stared at me the longest. "What'll you have to drink?"

"Four Peppy Colas." Gibby ordered. He nodded and wrote that down on his mini clipboard. Before leaving he looked back at me.

"Would _you_ like a Peppy Cola?" he asked, giving me that crooked, gap-toothed smile. He was very sweet and handsome; oh, if only I wasn't dating the dork. This Finn was a nice prize.

"Yes, thanks." I said, giving him my own smile. He nodded and left. I looked back to everyone else to see Carly and Gibby staring back at me, surprised, and Freddie glowering at his menu.

"What's the matter?" I asked. Gibby opened his mouth first but Carly cut in.

"You practically flirted with the waiter!" she said. I was about to protest when I realized she was sort of right: he had looked at me the longest, given me a smile, and even made sure I was happy with Gibby's order. He had a bit of a crush on Mama, and I didn't really show any sign I didn't like that fact. Was that why Freddie was angrily gazing at his menu? Nah, he couldn't be jealous…could he?

**Had to cut this short so I didn't bore you. Ooo, Fredward getting jealous! Or is he? You'll just have to wait and find out.**

**_Special Note!:_ If anyone can tell me who Finn the waiter is modeled after, I'll give you a special mention in the next chapter! Here's a hint: he is modeled after a character in either a TV show or a book. Try and guess!**


	8. An Act, Or More?

**Congrats to Talulah Carmichael who got who Finn the waiter was **_**first**_**: Finn Hudson from **_**Glee**_**! I'm a new big Gleek, and Finn's my favorite guy, right after Kurt because, **_**duh**_**, how do you not love Kurt Hummel? ! lol Anyways, congratulations and thank you, Talulah! And thanks to others who guessed! I personally think Finn Hudson belongs to Rachel Berry, but let's ignore that for now.**

**Sam's POV**

After awhile of Fredward's angry silence, Finn returned with four Peppy Colas in hand. He made sure mine was handed over personally while the three others were set on the table. It didn't seem to help Freddie's mood. The theory of jealously hung over my head but I said it was ridiculous; he had no reason to be envious of Finn. Unless it was an act for the challenge—if so, he was a darn better actor than I realized. But it was too realistic to be an act…

I immediately dismissed this fact as Finn asked us if we were ready to order.

"Yeah, I'll have—" Gibby started but Finn stopped him as he turned to me and asked me if _I_ was ready.

"Uh, yes." I said as I saw Carly's eyes enlarge. Gibby looked a bit huffy at being interrupted, and Freddie looked as though it was hard for him to keep his mouth shut. I felt upset by his evidently contained rage. I didn't want him to feel so full of fury, for it pained him.

"I'll, um, have the pork chops." I said, trying to be quick to get away from the attention. Finn gave me another smile with his gapped teeth but it no longer looked cute as I felt Freddie's warmth—enraged warmth—next to me. After writing my order, he turned reluctantly to the others.

"I'll have the grilled chicken salad." Carly said, and I thanked her for dispersing a bit of tension.

"I'll have the roast beef sandwich." Gibby said. Finn turned to Freddie, and Freddie looked up at him; seeing his face I knew he wasn't okay. His face was red and his eyes were pained yet furious. Give him an ax, he could be a horror film villain.

"Pork chops too." he said, and his voice was rough. Finn seemed a little unsettled at the dork, and walked away quickly after writing down his order. After he was out of sight I turned to Freddichini.

"What the chiz is wrong with you?" I asked, hoping I still sounded caring through my Sam-ish tone. He stared at me fiercely, like he couldn't believe I was talking to him—or didn't want me to.

"No chiz is wrong with _me_." he said. The emphasis he put on "me" gave me the impression he thought I had something wrong. This made my anger rise.

"Oh, so I have a problem?" I lashed out, my voice like a razor. Carly cringed and Gibby shifted uneasily, but I ignored them. I had only eyes for Freddie, and they weren't happy with what they saw. His eyes narrowed in a way I've never seen on him before. He looked…scary. I winced a bit and shrunk away at the gaze.

"You just might." he growled. Carly sucked in anxious breath as I glowered at him. He had the nerve to insult me? I usually admired people who stuck up to me, but he was making me infuriated with his insulting and envy. It seemed impossible for him to be envious, but it was becoming more and more obvious to me that was it. But the way he was handling it made me want to clock him.

Right at that tense moment you-know-who chose to come up. He noticed the argument and came over, apparently to stop it. Frankly, it would've been better if he'd stayed where he was. Or the next event wouldn't have happened.

"You okay here?" he asked, more to me than the rest of them. Freddie's eyes flashed with anger and it appeared hard for him to restrain from doing something…unwise. I told him it was all peaceful (though that was the farthest thing from the truth) and he gave me a crooked smile again.

"You sure?" he said, placing a hand on my shoulder, "'Cause if not, I'd be happy to help you out."

It all blew up after that.

Freddie stood up abruptly, looking furious. He stared at Finn with a hateful eye, and he seemed murderous. Even _I_ was a bit afraid of him.

"You jerk!" he shouted in Finn's face, "She's _my_ girlfriend and you better stop flirting with her right now!" Carly's and my mouths flew open; so Freddork _was _bitten by the green-eyed monster. But his anger was something I'd never seen him have before. He looked ready to kill. Finn gazed coldly at him.

"It doesn't look like she likes you too much." he said. Freddie pushed past me forcefully to get right in front of the waiter, and I knew what he was about to do. _No, no, no, Freddie, no, no…_ I thought as we all watched the scene.

"That's it." Freddie snarled, and his fist came in contact with Finn's face. Finn stumbled away, clutching his nose. Right then another server got behind Finn, carrying a plate of food, and he hit her as he fell. She screamed and her plate flew out of her hand and landed on another customer's table, splattering mashed potatoes and whatever else everywhere. More shrieks came, and a man in a silky black suit ran out to Finn. I saw on his ID card as it flopped on his chest that it said MANAGER. Shoot.

"What happened? !" he cried. Finn pointed at Freddie, and the man looked angrily at him.

"Out!" he yelled, coming for us, "Out, now!" Didn't have to tell us twice. We all gathered our things and ran out of there quickly. We kept running away from the Cheesecake Warehouse until we were a dozen blocks away, in front of the Groovy Smoothie. Panting, we rested against the building's wall.

The whole scene replayed over and over in my mind. I never knew Freddie could get so angry that he'd deck someone—especially over me. He didn't even like me like that…or did he? The idea made me stop breathing.

Freddie like me the same way he liked Carly…no, it was a stupid guess. Like he'd want to _really_ be my boyfriend. We hated each other. At least, I hated him; that much I knew for sure.

And I wasn't even certain _that_ was true.

After we'd all restarted breathing, we just looked awkwardly around at one another. Freddie was still panting, but not from running I'll bet. Carly seemed the most uncomfortable but she wasn't—trust me.

"Uh…" she squeaked after a long, painful silence.

"Maybe we ought to…" Gibby said but he didn't finish; his voice disappeared in the wind of the night.

"Get a smoothie?" I said. His forehead creased at the strange sentence, but nodded.

"Er, sure." he said, taking Carly's hand, "Maybe they'll give us some sustenance since…well…"

"Yeah, good idea." Carly said, walking with him inside. I went to follow them when I realized I was the only one doing so. I turned round to see him sitting down on the curb, his legs parted and his hands folded. He looked ashamed and pitiful just sitting there as cars sped past, alone. Usually I wouldn't give a crud and just leave him there but right then I couldn't tear my eyes away from the sight of him there.

"Sam, you coming?" I turned my eyes to Carly as she hung out of the doorway. I wanted to go in but Freddie sitting there piteously tugged at my heart—yes, I have one of those. He was like a child deprived of a Christmas the way he sat there so gloomily. And if it wasn't enough that he was alone and unhappy, the heaviest rain I've ever seen started to fall. Thunder boomed like a drum and lightning flashed dangerously above. Within seconds of the boom and flash, rain started pouring down in huge drops. They were so big you heard them slap against the ground; they sounded like fists. Looking to him, I saw them pounding hard on Freddie's head and his hair was soaked in a minute. But his expression didn't change, nor did he move. It made him look even more pathetic, and I don't say that meanly.

I made my decision. I looked over to Carls and said "You go. I'll stay." She nodded with a hint of a smile, and closed the door. I stuffed my hands in my pockets and walked over to the geek. He didn't even flinch as I stood over him. I moved down and plopped next to him, mirroring his position. He looked over to me then, and I looked back: his face was wet too, and raindrops dripped off the tip of his nose and his eyelashes. You'd think he had been crying with the way his face was red and hot plus the rain.

"Sorry." It was a minute or so after I'd sat with him that he spoke. A simple word but emotions and meaning flooded through.

"S'okay, Freddie." I said, shrugging. He gave me a grin that twitched weakly at the side of his mouth. I could tell he didn't feel like grinning; understandable.

We let the rain beat down on us in quiet. I knew we had to talk about what had happened but it was nice to just sit there with him in the silence. But, _chiz_, was it cold! I wished I'd brought my coat. That's what I hate about living in Seattle: if you're not always prepared with a coat or umbrella, you're screwed. And I was screwed right then.

I began to shiver and I rubbed my arms in an attempt to warm up. It wasn't working, duh. I desperately wanted a coat right then, or an umbrella, or _any_thing at all. It sucked.

As I cursed at the coldness, I felt something warm envelope me. I welcomed the heat but was curious as to what it was. I peeked out of the corner of my eye to see it was Freddie's jacket on my shoulders and he was enduring the cold in just his red shirt. It made me feel bad. Though I usually never try to be kind, I decided it was okay to be un-Sam for a sec.

"Fredbag, take your jacket back." I said. He gave me a smirk, as though he expected that reaction, which he no doubt did.

"I'm fine" was his response.

"Listen, nub, _take it back_." I said forcefully, wrenching the coat off. His hands flew to my back and kept in place as I struggled to get it off. He wouldn't move his hands away and I found that he'd grown stronger over the last year. I'd never noticed how muscular he'd grown to be.

"Look, let's share?" he said after awhile. It came out as a question. I answered with a "Whatevs." He smiled again and took half of the jacket away and placed it around him. Since we were sharing, we had to be close to each other. It wasn't awkward though; instead of the unbearable nearness I felt in the restaurant it was a warm, welcome feeling as his body pressed against mine in the rain. Another tingle crawled down my back and I shuddered. He noticed, and wrapped an arm around me, thinking it was a shiver 'cause of the rain. I didn't protest as his heat came onto my skin, warming me up swiftly. I allowed myself to put my head on his shoulder.

"What happened back there?" I whispered. I had to bring that up, even if I wanted to never do so. His eyes sparkled with remembrance and he sighed.

"He was a jerk." he said simply. I wanted to accept that answer but it wouldn't be smart to do so. I needed better answers.

"But you didn't have to attack the guy." I said, "Why'd you do it?" He shrugged, and his movement made me tremble.

"I'm a good actor, eh?" He smirked. My heart plummeted to my belly as he said this. _Actor?_ I thought. It was an act? That jealously, that anger, that hate…

It was an act?

"You were acting?" I whispered, my voice quivering, "But…it was so realistic…" His eyes twinkled again and his smirk disappeared. He looked like he was holding back on something—something I wanted to know. I waited for him to speak again, hanging onto his body language in search of something that would tell his secret.

"Yeah." he whispered. My heart fell even farther downward and it beat with disappointment. I don't know why it did, because I didn't care…I didn't care…I didn't…but I did.

"Come on, let's get out of this rain." He took my hand and lifted me to my feet. I trembled and felt dizzy for a moment from sitting so long. He put his hand on my elbow and the other on my shoulder to steady me. After the dizziness disappeared, we clumsily went into the Groovy Smoothie. I refused to look at him because of fear. Fear of myself, I mean.

Because I cared about his faking it.

Because I was shocked about his faking it.

Because I hated his faking it.

Stupid emotions.

**Hope you enjoyed this piece. Hopefully Freddie wasn't too OOC, with the punching Finn. I just wanted a reason for them to be kicked out, and, well...yeah...****Freddie isn't jealous? ****Or is he, and is holding back? ****Do they love each other, and are denying it? ****Or is it all still an act?**

**(Creepy movie music plays as scene fades out...)**


	9. No School?

**I just wanted to thank all of you who are reading this story! It's only been up a few days and it's reached 100 reviews! I never expected a story of mine would be so well-liked! Thank you for favoriting, alerting, and most of all reviewing this story! It means a lot! Thank you so much!**

**Freddie's POV**

My alarm awoke me with its incessant buzzing. I reached over from my bedside and hit the SNOOZE button hard. The early rays of morning crept through the blinds and hit my face, warming it as I moved out of my bed.

The occurrence from the night before still lingered in my brain. I could still feel a tingle where my fist connected with the jerk's face. I couldn't believe how openly he'd flirted with Sam. What else I couldn't believe was how angered I was by that. I was like a rabid dog with the madness he caused me; surprised I didn't start foaming at the mouth. I didn't even like Sam that way. But why did I do it?

I walked over to my closet and grabbed randomly from an endless sea of polos. The lucky one I got had blue-and-black stripes. Sam hates stripes. I whipped my bed shirt off and tugged the polo on, thinking about the girl. I still didn't understand why I'd beaten up "Finn" because of her. She'd probably kill me for ruining her chance, but she would've done that by now. Why hadn't she? She had actually comforted me as I, ashamed, sat alone in the rain. Heck, we shared a jacket. Almost like acquaintances. Or friends.

_Or lovers_.

I shook that away. No way was I truly in love with Sam. I only pretended for Andrea, because of the challenge. Thank goodness I had that reason to save me from painful questions. Sam kept prying to see if I was envious. I didn't want her to know, because then it'd be awkward for no reason. So I said it was an act. It was strange to say so—the words felt foreign on my tongue—and she mysteriously looked…hurt after I uttered them. But if she was hurt then that meant she really liked me, which was impossible.

Right?

I tugged my pants on after yanking my pajama shorts off. Then I put on my high tops and left for the kitchen. The aroma of bacon grease filled my nose. Mom was always up early to cook me breakfast (she said it was "the most important meal of the day for a growing boy! You don't want to be unhealthy, do you?"), a motherly nurturing I didn't protest to. Sometimes, though, the breakfast was Fiber-Nuts or soy milk with oats. But those were when she went on health kicks, usually after a doctor's visit. Most of the time she fed me good stuff: bacon, waffles, eggs—I liked them scrambled—French toast, sausages; the stuff you _want_ to digest before school.

"Mornin'!" I said cheerily.

"Good morning, Freddie!" Mom said back with the same chipper voice. I went over to the couch where I normally deposited my backpack before bedtime but it wasn't there. I searched around the couch but I never saw the blue fabric of my backpack.

"Mom, where's my backpack?" I asked, going up behind her. She turned to me after flipping the bacon in the pan; she was giving me a weird look.

"In the closet." she said. She sounded perplexed, like I should know my backpack was there.

"Why'd you move it?" I asked, "I thought it didn't bug you." She lifted the pan away from the stove and brought it over to the table. I followed her steps.

"It doesn't." she said, "You aren't going to school today." I stopped moving and stared dumbly at her. No school? It wasn't the weekend, and it wasn't winter so no snow day. No holiday, and I knew I wasn't sick. My mom wasn't one to want her son skipping school for any reason; she was just as strict about my education as she was about my hygiene. Her saying there was no school with no reason was like saying I was allowed to walk in the middle of traffic.

"Huh?" I said as she put the bacon on two plates, "Why? A…family reunion or something? No one's sick, right?" She shook her head.

"No, and no." she said, "Actually, you're not attending school all week. Your principal has dismissed you from school, saying someone told him you, Carly, and Samantha were working on some sort of science project. He wasn't sure and said you could probably tell me." I was befuddled by what she meant at first, but in one seconf it all snapped into place: the challenge. This was the work of Andrea.

"Er, yeah, that's it." I said, moving toward my bedroom, "We're testing to see how not attending school affects different personas."

"Oh!" Mom exclaimed, "That's nice!" I ran into my room before she could say more. I grabbed my laptop from my desk and clicked on my mail. There were two new e-mails in my Inbox. Clicking it open quickly, I found one was from Andrea.

I clicked it open and read her message:

_I talked with your principal to get you and the rest of iCarly out of school for the week. Don't worry, no one knows; I said it was a science project. It's all part of the challenge, mind you. If you propose to, marry, etc. Sam, you can't be in school, can you? Adults don't attend school, do they? Have fun.—Andrea_

It _was_ Andrea's doing! She got us out of school so we could realistically do the challenge! Ugh, she was intelligent. Why couldn't she be a stupid viewer?

I deleted the e-mail and went to the other to find it was peculiarly sent from…Principal Franklin?

I remembered my visit to his office the other day, and suddenly his e-mailing me wasn't so odd. He had offered to purchase Sam's wedding ring, not knowing we weren't really marrying and that we would do so Wednesday. I tried to convince him otherwise but he held firm. So I had to awkwardly explain that I needed it tomorrow. At first he was confused and a little worried, but I told him Sam and I "got permission from our parents and the state, so we're good to go". He didn't seem to like and/or understand still, but agreed to go ring shopping the next day. His e-mail was basically him telling me to meet him at Biel's Jewelry Shoppe.

I deleted that one too and set my laptop back on the desk. I decided there was no way of wiggling out of that, so I left my apartment for the jewelry shop. My mom started yelling at me for not eating, so I lied to her, saying I would eat at Carly's. She reluctantly allowed me to go, thank goodness.

I walked out to my car in the parking lot. It was a shiny blue, one of my favorite colors. As I entered it, Hanson's "Weird" blasted from my pants pocket. I yanked my cell phone out and saw Carly's number. I sighed in relief, for I thought I'd see a blonde's number instead.

"S'up?" I said, buckling up.

"Hey!" she said, "Where are you?"

"Going to…the ring shop." I muttered swiftly, half-hoping she didn't hear. But as a squeal echoed from the opposite side of the phone, I knew she'd heard.

"Cool!" she cried, "What kind are you getting? How big? How expensive? Freddie, answer!"

"Geez frickin' Louise, Carly!" I laughed, "I don't know, probably small, and definitely cheap. Happy?"

"No." I sighed; she wasn't going to be satisfied until she saw the ring with her own eyes.

"Well, you'll just have to calm the heck down for now, okay?" I said. There was a "humph" from the other end and I knew Carly was pouting. Smiling to myself, I said "Goodbye" and hung up. I saw that I had arrived at the ring shop after doing this. Principal Franklin was waiting outside, looking at the rings. I sighed in defeat, parked the car, and rushed to meet him.


	10. Sam's Wedding Ring

**Definitely not a chapter I like. It's mostly a filler. But Principal Franklin offered to buy the ring so I **_**had**_** to make this chapter, though I don't like it. Hope it's not boring. The below thing Principal F. says about "sixth grade" is actually a comment by Dan Schnieder.**

**Freddie's POV**

I strolled up to Principal Franklin. He was in a sepia trench coat, with a T-shirt and jeans underneath. I'd only ever saw him in suits, so the casual attire surprised me at first. But teachers are human too...with the exception of Mr. Howard and Miss Briggs.

He was staring at the jillions of rings in their precious cases. He didn't notice me at first, so I placidly looked at the rings too. There were many different kinds: extravagant gold ones with dozens of details, plain ones with small or no diamonds, pearl ones, ones with several jewels, and the list goes on endlessly. No matter how hard I looked, I couldn't picture any on Sam's third left finger.

"Oh, Freddie, I didn't see you there!" Principal Franklin said suddenly. He gave me a smile, to which I returned with my own. "Shall we go in?" I nodded and we entered the jewelry shop.

Inside women were walking about, peering at the beautiful pieces of jewelry. Men walked around too, no doubt in the same fix I was—only they liked it.

I moved with Franklin to different glass cases. I thought every ring was prettily decorated but they were too expensive—and not Sam-ish. I wanted to buy a ring that spoke "Sam"; something she'd like, and would actually be able to be pictured on her.

"See anything she'll like?" Principal Franklin said. I shook my head, a defeated look passing over both our faces. I never realized how hard it was to pick a ring for someone. I'm starting to think I should stay single…

"Hello, gentlemen!" said a perky voice, "May I help you?" We turned to see a brunette saleswoman with curled hair and gapped teeth. As she smiled at us I was reminded of another with gapped teeth, and I got mad all over again.

"Yes," Principal Franklin said, putting a hand on my shoulder, "this young man here is trying to find a ring to propose with." I smiled forcefully and she merrily looked down at me.

"Oh, super!" she said, "Now then, what is your girlfriend like? Maybe that'll help you pick a ring." Surprisingly, this idea made sense. I needed to find a ring that matched Sam's personality, which was crazy. I didn't need to take this into consideration (it was a fake marriage) but I wanted to give Sam a ring she'd like; particularly because Principal Franklin would be wasting his money on it.

"Well, my…_girlfriend_…" I said, (it felt weird saying the word), "She's…crazy. And she's carnivorous, mean, rude, delinquent-like…oh, and she's been in juvie a few times." The lady looked at me weirdly, probably wondering why I'd want to marry a girl with that description. At first I thought she'd run off screaming or call the police.

"Um, okay…" she said, looking agitated, "I'll…see if we have anything similar to…that." She then walked off to the backroom of the store to search for rings that'd fit Sam.

I heard a deep bellow of a chuckle, and turned to see Principal Franklin laughing heartily. I scrunched my brow in confusion; why in the world was he chortling?

"What is it, sir?" I asked. He stopped chuckling—but he still had a smile—and looked down upon me.

"Freddie, this just reminds me so very much of my wife and I." he said, "She was much like Sam, as I was much like you." I became instantly interested in this; the fact he married a Sam Puckett as a Freddie Benson intrigued me. I would never wed Sam for real and I wondered why any guy like me would.

He leaned on the wall and crossed his arms, his eyes looking upward as he recalled his memories. I copied his position. He shook his head and laughed again before he spoke.

"Melissa was her name—or _is_ her name should I say." he said, "We hated each other with a passion. She was a rough and rowdy tomboy whilst I was content being a dork, so to speak. She picked on me constantly, saying I was a huge dweeb, and she even gave nicknames—Teddork, Tedweird, Teducation…endless list.

"One day we were alone. We got to talking and she admitted something very interesting: the reason she pranked me and such was because she loved me. It was a crush she had forever. Truth be told, I felt the same towards her. The reason neither of us revealed it was because we had hated one another ever sixth grade. It was like a game we played that we were afraid to stop playing. But I am glad we stopped." He sighed happily again. I soaked in all his words disbelievingly.

Sam and I knew each other since sixth grade, and we hated each other from then on. The way we treated each other was exactly as he described it: a game. She insulted me, I rolled my eyes, she got mad, I backed away in fear, and then she'd insult me again—a never-ending circle of a game. But she didn't like me nor did I like her. And we weren't afraid to stop playing, because it wasn't a game.

Principal Franklin took his back away from the wall and uncrossed his arms. He grinned again and put a paternal arm round my shoulders.

"Suppose they're right," he said, "True love always springs from true hate." I nodded, putting a fake smile on. Just because he was a Freddie who married a Sam didn't mean Sam and I were right together. Just a coincidence. Nothing more than that, because I loved _Carly_, not _Sam_. And that's how it'd always be, until now and…

_Maybe_ forever.

The saleswoman appeared in sight carrying a velvet box. It was a deep purple color and had gold edges around it. The box in and of itself was probably worth a bundle.

"Now then, does this ring seem suitable?" she asked, popping open the box. The sun glinted off the silver of the ring, making it shiny in the semi-dark shop. I stared at the gleaming silvery ring in awe. Unlike every other ring in the jewelry store, I could clearly see this ring on Sam's left hand. My mouth turned upwards into a smile.

"It's perfect." I whispered, "I'll take it." She gave me her sprightly smile and said "Alright then, sir, we'll get it all set if you'll come over here to the counter…" Principal Franklin and I walked behind the lady as she went behind the counter. She told us the ring cost a whopping one-thousand five-hundred bucks. My jaw dropped and I looked to Principal Franklin apologetically; his face looked shocked but he went into his wallet to retrieve the money anyhow. He handed the bills over to the woman, who readily took them and placed them in the cash register. After that she handed over the ring and I took it gently as though it were a child.

"Go on now, Freddie." said Principal Franklin, patting my back. I shoved the ring in my pocket and nodded whilst zealously running to my car.

"I will, sir!" I cried, pushing out of the doors and to my car in a journey for Sam.


	11. Will You Marry Me?

**The moment you've all been waiting for: the proposal!**

**Sam's POV**

The news of no school made me elated. For an entire week I wouldn't have to stare at Miss Briggs's ugly mug, eat lame-o cafeteria chiz, or work. It was the bomb.

But of course Little Miss Carlotta Shay was pestering me about my "proposal". She kept fantasizing about how my ring would look. Then she'd rummage through her jewelry and force me to try it on so she could see how I looked. And the best part: she was designing my wedding dress.

"Think you should go sleeveless?" she asked, looking up from her sketchpad. She was at the end of the sofa while I was lying down, channel-surfing again. Since most teenagers are stuck in school all day, none of the shows I watched were on; only reruns of classic television, reality shows, or toddler shows. Even the food channel had suckish programs, a terribly bad sign.

"Whatever." I mumbled, not really listening to the words she said.

"Yeah, but if you choose sleeveless then you have to decide between straps and strapless." she said, biting on her pencil, "Whereas sleeves would be a simple choice." I rolled my eyes; who'd she think she was? Tyra Banks or something?

"Fine, sleeves." I muttered. She took her pencil away and pursed her lips, twirling said pencil in her fingers.

"Short or long?" she said, "If it's short, then you'd have to choose puffy or flat. And if long, well, see-through or no? Hmm, decisions, decisions…" I couldn't believe she was wasting so much time on this; I wasn't _really_ getting married. I could wear T-shirts and shorts and it wouldn't matter.

"Carls, why don't you just call for Carson Kressley?" I smirked, "He _is_ the fashion king." She glared at me while still twirling her pencil, and I noticed how chewed-up it looked.

"This is serious!" she said, "You're getting mar—"

"It's not real!" I said, "But fine. You can get me a wedding gown if you shut up about it!" After I said this she pretended to zip up her lips. We nodded and flashed each other a thumbs-up.

My Carrie Underwood ringtone sounded and I flipped open my phone. I heard a nubbish boy's voice on the other side, and my bad day just got worse.

"What is it?" I said, trying to sound pleasantly girlfriend-like though I didn't want to talk to him. The night before still played in my mind like a bad movie. Not when he hit the server—when he said it was but an act. I don't know why it bugged me. Duh, it was an act. No way, no how could it be real. But I kept feeling down from it.

"I'd like to take you out for a walk." he said, "Meet me in the park soon, okay?" _As if I had a choice,_ I thought, annoyed. I told Freddie yes and goodbye, and then hung up while standing. Carly looked up as I moved, curious.

"I'm meeting Fredwina at the park." I explained, and she became merrily energized. She hopped up so fast her sketchbook flew into the air along with her pencil, something that unnerved me until I saw it land in a peaceful spot away from my head.

"Ooo, superb! Let me get my camera!" she cried, running to the counter. What…? _No_! She came running up to me with her camcorder, already recording. I felt compelled to rip the camera right out of her hands and crash it against the wall. I hated the camera on me when I wasn't filming iCarly—if it wasn't iCarly, I felt naked.

"No!" I said, "No cameras!"

"But, Sam!" she yelled, "I need footage, and if I miss the proposal—the_ proposal_—I'll never forgive myself!" I growled at her; she was right. She needed to record this, and especially the proposal, one of the most important milestones. I'd have to allow her to do it, even if it made me angry.

"Fine, but stay out of sight." I demanded. She shrieked in happiness and gave me a fast hug. She yelled "Thank you, Sam!" over and over again until I told her to shut up.

'~**~'

Carly parked the car by the side of the road. I craned my neck as she did to see if I could spot a familiar boy but I saw none. Freddie was nowhere in sight, and that disgruntled me. I wanted the chiz over with so I wouldn't have to stare at him any longer than necessary.

I hurried out of the car and looked around again: still no sign of him. I noticed Carly was still in the car, looking at me like I'd done something wrong.

"Where is he?" she asked.

"I don't know!" I said, "Just stay in the car. When I find him we'll…" I scanned my horizon: there was a playground, a bunch of trees, and then a white-painted bench by a shady maple. It was perfect. I continued to Carly: "When you see us there, you can start recording." She nodded giddily, checking her camera for footage already shot. I then left her alone in pursuit of Freddork.

There was a long dirt path around the park. Imprints of feet dotted the trail. There were so many footprints it was hard to tell who was going where and how many there were. I knew that Freddie had a men's 9 shoe size, so I squatted to measure. Mine was a woman's 7, so I compared it to the freshest-looking footprint; they appeared close, so I went forward, where the footprints led.

Dozens of people were about. Mostly were families but there were a few couples around too. They looked so joyful together, smiling and hugging and (no chiz) kissing. I may not seem like a romantic but sometimes I fantasized of having my own guy holding me in his arms. I rarely ever had a boy who I could depend on to protect me and be nice to me, 'cept for…somebody.

Okay, _yes_, Freddie.

Speaking of which, I'd been walking awhile with my eyes glued to the ground. When a voice cut through the air it was unexpected and frightening, at first.

"Sam." it said. I whirled around, my fists up. I was ready to punch anyone who was trying to kidnap me or something. I'd taken numerous karate classes when I was young; I was ready for action. But the one who uttered my name raised his arms in surrender, backing away as far out of reach of my fist as he could get. Upon seeing him, I put my hands back in gratitude and said "Hey, Freddie." Freddie grinned at me and walked closer, knowing I wasn't going to hit him right then.

"Ready for that walk?" he asked. I shrugged.

"How 'bout we go sit at that bench there?" I replied, pointing to said bench. He shook his head, a smirk playing on his face. Confused, I asked him why not.

"'Cause that's where a pretty little brunette will be waiting," he whispered, "I want to be alone." I didn't get why being alone mattered to him but I decided to go along—I didn't want the "pretty little brunette" recording us either.

He roped his arm with mine and we walked along the musty dirt trail. I felt…comfortable with him by my side. After watching all the idyllic couples with one another, I felt strangely cold and lonesome. All the girls I saw were arm-in-arm with some dude. It made me feel left out of something grand—which I think I was—and then being with Freddie made me feel, I don't know…better.

We soon arrived at the other end of the park where another bench was awaiting our arrival. However, it was by the playground I mentioned, so a bunch of kiddos were running about and screaming their heads off. Not a really quixotic atmosphere but it was better than being filmed from the bushes.

Freddie unwound our arms and we sat on the bench. Children kept running around near us, yelling incomprehensible things and their mothers gave us apologetic glances. But I ignored the squeaks of the kids and paid all my attention to Fredwad.

He shifted nervously, wringing his hand together. I saw a lump in his left pocket and I could feel myself grow somehow excited. He didn't make a move for the you-know-what and that somehow made me upset. I wanted the boy to get on it, and fast too.

"Sam…" he said quietly, so quiet I had to lean closer to hear, "I've…enjoyed the time spent with you these years and I love…it. It's been one crazy, wild ride hanging with you, and being with you. Our lives together, though, were based upon a game.

"Sixth grade was when we met and we've hated each other since then. But was it real hate? Or just a game we played and keep playing, because we were afraid to stop playing it?" My heart began to beat furiously in my chest cavity. The way he went about saying this made me anxious and eager for more. I told myself to stop getting to excited because the proposal was fake but my heart just kept pumping faster.

He stood from the bench, his hand moving to mine. He held my fingers lightly against his palm but I still felt like he was squeezing them with all his might. As he rubbed his thumb along my hand, he got down on bended knee. My heart stopped beating—instead it hopped up to my throat.

"Sam," he said, reaching with his other hand to grab the box, "I…I…I love you more than I ever, ever dreamed I could. And I don't want to lose you. I love you, Sam. I _need_ you. I'll protect you forever, because you need me. And I need you." The box was in his hand now. He took his first hand off mine and placed his fingers on the top. Slowly, he opened it to reveal a stunning silver ring. Its edges were jagged and the middle was encrusted with purple—or amethyst—jewels. It was beautiful and it took my breath away to think of how much dough he paid for a fake engagement.

"Sam Puckett," he whispered, "will you…w-will y-y-you…marry me?" I looked up from the ring and into his chocolate eyes: they were strangely wet and sparkled as the sunlight hit the water. I found my own ocean-colored eyes were watery too.

"Y-Yes," I whispered, "I'll marry you." His grin was weak after I said this, but joyous to. I don't know what compelled me to do it, but I jumped from the bench and into his arms, pressing my mouth on his.

He was shocked, as was I, at what I had done. But neither of us pulled back from that blissful kiss. We stayed there together, in the other's arms, kissing, until an "Ewww!" chorused around us. We pulled back to see some seven-year-olds with their tongues out, their faces contorted in heavy revulsion. Freddie laughed as their mothers apologized and lectured them about "making rude noises".

The two of us, still chuckling at the children, sat back down on the bench. I held the ring's box in my hand. I gazed at it with surprise and wonderment before extracting it. It felt slick in my hand. In a careful movement, I placed it on my third finger, left hand. I must say it made me feel so complete to put it around that finger. I all of a sudden felt like a beautiful woman, not an okay-looking teenage girl.

I turned to look at Freddie to see him smiling at me. I didn't notice his hand around my shoulders until I looked at him. I gave him back a smile. There was no awkwardness between us after that kiss. I was still content with him, and he appeared the same with me.

"Cute kids, weren't they?" I joked. He sniggered, his face twisting in a—dare I say it—handsome way.

"Yeah." he said, "At least it wasn't caught on tape." I nodded as I too laughed. It was relieving to know the shebang wouldn't be recorded and posted for the entirety of the world to see—

"Think again!" a cheery voice yelled as a head popped between us. Freddie and I jumped away in surprise, and he fell onto his back off the bench. The kids who had been revolted by us were now pointing and laughing. I glared at Carly; how the heck had she known we'd be at the playground? !

"What the chiz?" I asked, "How'd you know we were here?" She gazed at the sky with a look of innocence that screamed "Fake" and said "Because I've known you for years—you think I wouldn't know you'd try to outsmart me?" I had to give the girl credit; if she could outsmart one of the most intelligent geeks in Washington, along with the most cunning of Seattle girls, she deserved a medal.

"Great," Freddie muttered, staggering to stand, "now she's Sam 2.0. This is just dandy." I gave him a teasing punch as he sat and Carly beamed. She hopped over the bench and scooted between us, somewhat annoying me for her being closer to Freddork.

"So," she said, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, "who to invite to the wedding?"


	12. Psycho Reaction

**Freddie's POV**

"What about Wendy?" I asked. The girls and I were now at Carly's apartment after the proposal at the park. Carly was ecstatic that she'd gotten us on tape, but Sam and I weren't the happiest campers. However, we weren't too over-the-top angry with her; just a little peeved. I was surprised Sam hadn't brought up the kiss again, and that neither of us appeared fazed by it. At least, not too fazed.

Carly was sipping some Peppy Cola on the couch as she jotted down on a notebook the names of people to invite. We'd already determined on inviting Principal Franklin, Spencer, Gibby, and Carly—Gibby and Carly were the best man and the maid of honor, though, so they were required to come. We decided against Mandy, Nora, and Nevel, obviously. I was at the computer, uploading the video Carly shot against my will. Since I'm the only one who's tech-savvy, it was automatically my job. Sam was across the counter from me, feasting on a ham sandwich. More specifically, her third ham sandwich. I'd be afraid to marry Sam for real; with her ham cravings, she'd eat us out of house and home.

"Totally!" Sam said, and Carly happily wrote down Wendy's name.

"How about Tasha, Miss Briggs, or Mr. Howard?" Carly offered. _Please be kidding,_ I begged, turning to look at her. A joking smile was on her lips, so I was thankful she wasn't serious. Definitely no Miss Briggs or Mr. Howard—they hated Sam, and inviting them to her wedding would be suicide. And if we invited Tasha when her ex-boyfriend was best man with his girlfriend as maid of honor, Gibby and Carly would be dead before we exchanged our vows.

It was strange how I newly felt about the wedding—instead of being scared and repulsed, I felt like the challenge was actually a fun game. But at the same time I still felt weird about marrying my sworn enemy. Okay…sworn _frienemy_. I wondered if Sam was still utterly grossed out…

Later we had a much longer list. Along with the original five, we'd added Melanie (much to Sam's protests), Guppy, Socko, Jeremy/Germy, and Dave and Fleck. Not a large list but we didn't know many people. I'd finished uploading the proposal video and was drinking from a water bottle while Sam chowed down on her fifth ham sandwich. _Man, she must have a good metabolism,_ I mused, staring at her. She was thinner than you'd expect a girl who ate like a truck driver would be. However, she wasn't stick-thin; she was very curvy, curvier than Carly…Wait. No, she's not attractive! I'm not staring at Sam's figure, admiring how…alluring…_Darn these hormones,_ I thought, forcing my eyes to gaze at Carly's notebook instead.

"Well, s'pose we're done," she said, closing the notebook and standing, "I'll head to the card store and buy some invitations and mail 'em out pronto. I guess I don't have to send one to your mom, Freddie—" I swear, in that one moment when she said "mom", Sam and I froze in unison. My lips barely grazing the bottle and her teeth half-way into the toasted bread. My mom…oh, crud, my mom! She hated Sam with a fiery passion and she wouldn't be happy with me getting married to her, let alone at sixteen! She'd have a freakin' conniption! Or a heart attack. Or both.

The blonde-haired girl and I hopped up and ran to Carly. As she turned from placing her notebook on the counter, she had Sam's fingers digging into the flesh of her arms as she gave her the death stare. I was standing from afar, my eyes popping out like a fly's.

"We are not inviting his loony-bird mommy to our wedding." Sam snarled, "She'll get a restraining order against me, and may even contact the cops. Wouldn't put it past her to." I felt a little upset at her calling my mom those things, but in that minute, the words were appropriate.

Carly rose one black eyebrow on her forehead, looking in a skeptical way at the both of us. She knew exactly why we were traumatized by my mom knowing yet she seemed downright astounded at our outburst. It wasn't _that_ hard to understand my mom would go nutty if she found me and Sam together.

"You can't just _not_ tell her." she said, "If you were really getting married, you'd tell her, right?"

"No!" Sam and I yelled at the same time, "Why should we?" We both looked to each other after that—Sam and I had accidentally spoken at the same time twice. It was irritating how we knew what the other would say. And weird.

Sam rolled her eyes and turned back to Carly. She said "We're not telling Mrs. B. No way, no how." Carly shook her head in a defiant way. She could get just as determined as Sam when she wanted and/or needed something. When they got into an argument, it was hard to tell who would win. Normally Sam, but Carly had her share of winnings too.

"It won't be accurate if you don't tell her." Carly said, "If you were really getting married, you'd tell her. If you don't, you'll lose—"

"I won't lose the hackin' challenge!" Sam shouted, her face an infuriated scarlet.

"Oh, yes you will!" Carly shouted, "If you don't tell her, it'll be unlike if you really married, meaning you lose, meaning you get paint—"

"We'll do it." I said. They gazed at me in amazement and confusion. Carly was right; if we were really going to wed, I'd tell my mom. Personally I didn't want to lose, whether or not Sam lost with me. I would tell my mom just so I'd keep my church clothes clean and fresh and my pride unstained.

Sam looked accusingly at me but emitted a low growl instead of a punch. "Fine but when she has a hissy-fit, it won't be _my_ problem." I smirked and took her hand in mine, strolling out of Carly's apartment and towards my own.

I took my house key out of my pocket, letting go of Sam's hand in the process, and put it in the lock. After opening the door, I saw my mother vacuuming the carpet for the most likely tenth time or so. Being a germophobe is another of her "issues", as the blonde-headed demon referred to them as.

"H-Hey, Mom." I stuttered. She turned off the vacuum and ran over to the door once she heard her name. She looked relieved and agitated at the same time. She grabbed me and twisted me round, checking me for anything unsanitary. Usually I had to take a bath first, but considering I'd brought company, Mom must've been being civil.

"Good, no ticks or any other bug or animal." Mom murmured. Then she stepped back and noticed Sam for the first time. Her eyes narrowed and her lips formed a thin, white line on her face. I could tell she wasn't very happy that Sam had crossed into her happy home and that made me even more worried about the bomb that was about to be dropped.

"Hello, Samantha," she said frostily, "been traumatizing my son lately?" Sam purely smirked, her incisors appearing like fangs with the malicious way she stared at my mother. I guessed it was to rile my mom up, not to be actually evil, for her smirk grew wider as Mom took a startled step back.

"I'm trying to cut down." Sam responded, and you could hear the amusement in her voice at terrorizing Mom like this—as though _my_ suffering wasn't enough.

Mom's open mouth closed again into her tight line and she appeared more so annoyed than angry—but still angry nonetheless. She went over to Sam and took her shoulder in hand while steering her towards the door. "Very nice of you to drop by, Samantha, but it's time for you to be going—"

"Freddison and I have to tell you something!" Sam shouted, wrenching away from my mom's grip and running to me. "It's _very_ important. Tell her, Freddie." She nudged me—not lightly—and I stumbled forward. After fully regaining my balance, I looked up to see my mom staring at me expectantly.

"What is it, Freddiebear? !" she said, "What's wrong? ! Are you sick? !" I gulped and looked to Sam for reassurance: she smirked and looked as though she was trying to hold back rolling on the floor with laughter. I wished she'd shown me any support at all but none came. She wouldn't be laughing when Mom starting whacking her with my boxer shorts.

"W-W-Well," I stammered, "y-you see…S-Sam and I…we're kind of…sorta…like, getting married tomorrow." I watched my mom's face as the news settled in: first her eyes were bugged out in worry. Next, her mouth gradually dropped open. Then, she screeched.

"What? !" she yelled, her hand flying to clutch her heart, "What did you say? !" I stepped away from my mom in fear she'd suddenly go mad. She looked as though she would start foaming at the mouth soon. I saw Sam start to grow fidgety and she too walked away from Mom. We stared at her as she began to hyperventilate and her grip around her chest tightened. I began to wonder if we should call 911. In fact, my hand was inching toward my pocket, but when her breathing regulated I didn't take my cell out.

"How in the world could you do this? !" she shouted, grabbing my arms and shaking me, "How could you decide to throw your life away by marrying at sixteen? ! And with that—!" She stopped screaming at me and her eyes landed on Sam, and they became even angrier. She let me go and marched up to her, fire dancing in her pupils.

"You demon!" she screamed, the air from her lungs actually blowing Sam's hair a bit. "You've made my baby's life unbearable and now you've convinced him you love him? ! Is this some kind of game? !" Sam's mouth opened to retaliate but I knew that would only worsen the problem. So, before anything could be said, I jumped in.

"I proposed to her, Mom!" I yelled, "I…um, I love her! Yeah…" Sam's eyes looked ready to roll in irritation, but she held back the urge. My voice cracked as I stated I "loved" Sam; during another occasion I would've gotten red in the face, because me loving Sam was weird and stupid. But I hoped my mom took the bait, although I would've been just as happy if she didn't.

She took it.

"Oh my word!" she whispered, "I don't believe it. How…?" Suddenly, her expression became once more angered. Her bony hand reached out and grabbed my shoulder, and she dragged me away towards my bedroom. "I forbid you to see her ever again!" Even with my teenage boy strength, she was able to push me into my room and lock the door before I could say a word. As the lock clicked shut and my face hit the carpeting, I heard my mother scream and the front door being slammed.

She had locked me in and kicked Sam out.

**Guess Mrs. B isn't too happy...will that change? Or will there never be a Seddie wedding? Read to find out! Also, I'm so excited for Saturday! I can't wait until _Victorious_ and, much much much much more importantly, _iCarly_ to premeire! _iBeat the Heat _has finally arrived! It'll be epic!**


	13. Hiking Down the Mountain

**Freddie's POV**

The afternoon sun was beginning to edge closer and closer to the ground. The moon would appear soon, and I'd get to see it, because I didn't have anything else to do. I was sitting in my room—like I'd been doing for about five hours—and the only form of entertainment I had were books I'd already read seven times over and a television set with the worst reception. Darn my mom. Not only did she embarrass me (again), but she sentenced me to exile with lousy entertainment and dirty pants. She'd have fun washing my clothes when I went on iCarly and got paint on me; that is, if I ever left the house again.

I punched the TV for the fifth time, trying to get the picture to stop looking so fuzzy, but Matthew Morrison still looked like Patrick Swayze. You couldn't tell if it was _Glee _or_Dirty Dancing_…or _Spongebob Squarepants_.

The sound of my ringtone was louder than the sound of my TV. I took it out of my pants pocket and held it to my ear, hoping it was good news.

"Hello?" I said. An incoherent whisper came from the other end. I think it said my name and it appeared to be a female.

"We're coming to get you out!" continued the whisper. It began to sound like Carly as the words became more coherent. After processing her rushed sentence, I became excited. But how would they be able to get me out without alerting Mom?

"How?" I asked.

"Well, Sam…we thought…fire escape…er…" she said, "And, um…I-I'm not sure entirely." I sighed; how in the world could she not know? It must've been a weird idea of Sam's if Carly was going to do it and not even know. Normally I'd refuse an idea from Sam but I was desperate.

"Fine," I mumbled, "but I hope it works." It didn't comfort me much when, as I hung up, I heard a "Me too".

* * *

That night I waited by my window. Carly had called back saying to stay by the fire escape window, because Sam would be there soon enough. It was a tad confusing but I agreed nonetheless. In case my mom checked on me (like she does twenty-seven times a night. Yes, that's an accurate number), I stuffed my extra pillows under the sheets and put my Galaxy Wars helmet on top of the pillow at the head of my bed, and covered it with the blanket. It looked convincing, and I hoped Mom would buy it.

I peered over the ledge of the fire escape: nothing but whizzing cars and darkness. I cursed and went to sit back in my lawn chair. It was hard to think of how Sam was going to rescue me, considering I was high up in the sky (eight floors high) and she'd never be able to come into my apartment. Mom would kill her, no doubt about that. What shocked me was that Sam was willing to help me. Wouldn't she just let me be stuck until I told my mother the truth, and then she'd win? Apparently Sam's a much better person than that. The idea made me grin.

My cell rang again. I picked it up and answered. Sam's voice crackled on the other end: "Get ready, Freddilupe. Time for action." I replied with a yes and hung up. I stood up from my seat and waited for Sam to appear. It was weird to be standing on the fire escape when surely Sam would pick the lock to my apartment—

Suddenly a giant iron grappling hook came out of the air and fastened itself onto the edge of the fire escape. I stared, bewildered, at it, wondering how in the world it had fallen. I ran to look into the abyss of downtown Seattle and who do I see but Sam climbing up.

"What the he—" I began to say when Sam climbed over and into my abode. She smirked at my dumbstruck expression and went into her pockets. As she did so she spoke to me:

"How you doing, Freddumb?" She withdrew a pair of gloves and tossed them to me. I caught them but didn't put them on; instead I held them as I gazed at Sam in befuddlement.

"What the H-E-double-hockey-sticks is going _on_?" I asked, "_Why_ did you use a hiking rope to climb eight floors up here?"

"What, you wanted to rot up here all your life?" Sam responded sardonically, "My Uncle Carmine owns a wilderness survival store in Baltimore. He gave me a shipment of junk like this. Had to use it sometime, right?"

"You're loco." I said. She punched my arm and I stumbled back for it hurt very much. Sam could pack a punch. But I knew I had to agree or else I'd be trapped in the house I was condemned to. Even if the way Sam had come up to get me was _totally insane and suicidal_!

I told her that I agreed, and she gave me another smirk. "Good." was what she said. "Now get your gloves on so you don't slip off." She didn't have to tell me twice—I whipped those suckers on faster than Jesse Owens ran in the Olympics. After I had them on Sam showed me how to climb.

"Be calm and careful," she said, "You can't afford to slip up. And whatever you do, do _not_ look down." I nodded, a nervous lump building in my throat. She went over to the edge and stepped onto it. My instinct made me go forward and reach out to grab her. She didn't fall, though; thank goodness. Instead she crouched down and grabbed hold of the rope tight with her gloved fingers. She then swung herself over (my breath caught in my throat) and she disappeared from my view. I looked over the edge in dread, but the blonde had her feet against the brick wall of the apartment building, in perfect condition. Her hands had a death grip on the rope, and I saw beads of sweat begin to fall off her curls.

"I'm gonna go down." she murmured, like one loud word would send her tumbling. "As soon as I'm far enough down, follow." I gulped and nodded. Sam steadily moved down; she put her hands lower on the rope without letting go, and jumped off her feet. She planted them on the wall again after, very fast, might I add. She continued to descend and, when she was far enough down, I climbed too.

It was over pretty quickly. It was a blur after I squatted on the edge of the fire escape, clutched the rope, and swung myself over. But the hard part was moving lower after getting situated. Questions ran through my head: What if I slip? What if I let go? What if my legs bang against metal? It made me shudder.

"Hurry, Freddie!" Sam shouted. She was barely audible over the sounds of car honks and stressed-out drivers' yells but I heard her. Her voice shook, something it never ever did. She sounded afraid. Huh. I could've sworn Sam feared nothing. I guess everyone fears death.

"Okay!" I hollered back, and hoped she heard me over the Seattle streets' noise. I breathed deep and dropped my hands on the rope. It rubbed against the thick gloves' exterior; I was thankful I had them on. After situating my fingers, I sucked it up and pushed off.

In but a second I had my feet back on the wall, only farther down. It was easy to move—easier than I expected. The sole hard part was not being scared. Which I was, and Sam too, though that was impossible.

We kept moving down the same way: lower hands, push off, and repeat. I kept playing Sam's voice over in my head: _"Be calm and careful. You can't afford to slip up. And whatever you do, do _not_ look down."_ So I breathed deeply before and after every move and, though it was hard, refused to look down. I felt the need to look over my shoulder to check on Sam, to see how she was holding up. I knew I couldn't; it would be a mistake to check up on a girl (who could take care of herself) and end up stuck, terrified to go down.

"You're almost to the end!" Sam cried, piercing the quietness. Although there was clamor from the road, there was a silence between Sam and me without the other speaking. It spooked me a minute when she screamed.

I took the risk and looked down: just a few more jumps and I'd safely be on the ground. Sam was already there, gazing up at me. I became gutsy then, and hopped down without stopping. I was dizzy after I jumped to the ground and staggered, almost falling. I didn't, though, and straightened up to stare an impressed-looking Sam staring back at me.

"Wow." she said, "Cool. I didn't think you could be so…brave." Her face had a mixture of emotions that I didn't think she could achieve from looking at me: admiring. She admired my bravery. And there was something similar to smitten in her smile. Though I'm quite dashing (sarcasm!), Sam couldn't be even a little smitten with me for my courage. Maybe being a false twosome had changed her feelings somehow. I knew that mine were out-of-wack now.

"Come on, we'll take you to Carlotta's place." she said, taking my hand. A spark flew through my arm at her touch and something popped in my brain. I shivered with the effect her touch. Darn these mixed-up feelings.

The two of us ran around Bushwell Plaza until we reached the front door. Sam turned to me and placed a finger to her lips. I replied to her demand of quiet with a nod, and we entered. Lewbert was sitting at his desk, his head on it. A croaky snore came from him, causing our noses to crinkle in disgust. Drool was also dripping out of the corner of the doorman's mouth, adding to the gross factor that had been established with his cheek wart and foot sore.

We crept towards the stairs when he snorted and lifted his head up. He looked groggy and rubbed his eyes to clear them. After setting his arms down, they bulged at the sight of us. He then let out a girlish screech.

"What're you kids doing in my lobby?" he yelled, "I'm calling your mom, boy!" He pointed a finger at me while the other hand reached for the telephone. He dialed the number and, as he did, Sam took a piece of fruit from the coffee table and threw it at him. It hit him square in the head and he fell out of his chair, and onto the floor. Sam gave a satisfied smirk, grabbed the bowl of fruit, and tugged me to the elevator.

She punched the eighth floor button after we entered. The doors closed and she began to munch on her buffet of fruit. Juice squirted from the apple as she chewed and it was sort of funny. It dribbled down her chin and it was comical while also…cute. I hate to admit it but Sam's attractive. Not my type, but attractive still. I'd never tell her to save my life.

I reached over and rubbed my thumb along her chin. She froze while I wiped the juice off; her features held no emotion whatsoever. I pulled my hand back once I realized what I'd done. I said awkwardly "Sorry. You had some…stuff…"

"S'okay." Sam laughed. A smile lit up her face, causing me to smile too. It was nice to be able to communicate with Sam as a friend since we so rarely did. Always fighting. It got old sometimes but I liked it as well; our fights were a part of us. If we didn't fight, we wouldn't be Sam and Freddie.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened to Carly's apartment. We stepped out and looked around: it was dark in the living room part of the place. Spencer and Carly were no doubt in bed. I walked over to the couch and plopped down. I fluffed the pillows, hoping the couch was comfortable for naps. Sam came over and sat on the arm of the couch to watch me.

I laid down and it felt so wonderful. The couch's coziness eased my back, which had been bent all that time I hiked down the building. I gave a grin Sam's way, and she returned it.

"Well, I ought to go." she said, standing, "Best get my beauty sleep for the wedding." I laughed. She came over to me and ruffled my hair lovingly. "Night, Fredbag." She then went to the door and left.

"Night, Sammy." I whispered to nobody, and then I went to sleep in hopes of having good dreams.


	14. Their Hearts Contemplate

**Alright, alright, another short filler! Sue me!**

**Freddie's POV**

"Ouch!" I yelped, "Gibby!" I let out a pained breath and my hands clutched the tie on my throat. I didn't know how to tie one but Gibby did, so he began to tie it for me when he practically choked me to death.

"It ain't my fault!" he said as I loosened the chokehold the tie had. "These cheap-o ties are the worst."

"Hey, don't insult Tyler's ties!" Spencer said from across the bedroom. We were residing in his room to get ready for the wedding. I had borrowed one of Spence's old suits considering I couldn't go into my own closet. Most of them were multicolored with zigzag and polka-dot patterns. I had to look through his entire bedroom before I found a plain black one with no flashing neon lights. But none of his ties were really normal; he bought them all from Socko's cousin Tyler, and they were equal in the crazy factor with his socks. Some had little pictures that moved, others had odd patterns, and a few even said things aloud. I settled on the one that was the most normal: a blue-and-green-and-red one. See my problem?

Gibby didn't apologize to Spencer; he just went back to trying to get my tie on right. He wasn't succeeding, and I had a feeling he'd kill me before the wedding. I'd rather him kill me—I wasn't up to marrying Sam. But for different reasons than when the bet was first revealed to be that I'd marry her.

Over the course of two days I had somehow…changed towards Sam. Before we sort of hated each other and went through with the bet to humiliate the other. I tried to make her crack so she would lose and vice versa. It was a war between us; one would win and one would lose.

Then we fake-dated and I found myself almost enjoying how she clung to my arm, winked at me, and acted like she liked my presence. It made me feel nice—made me feel loved. I told myself not to feel nice because she didn't like me like that. I told myself not to feel nice because _I_ didn't like _her_ like that. However, that night at the Cheesecake Warehouse made me so angry. That waiter was a total flirt to Sam and he knew she was there with me, which made me even madder. I lost it and socked him in the face, which caused us to get kicked out. Sam waited with me by the curb after we'd run and made me feel better. The jealousy was real but when she asked I said it was an act. She seemed upset at that but didn't let on.

At the proposal a day later, I spouted all these mushy, romantic, heartfelt things to her, and it felt real…right. I said things I probably would say to my future wife when I proposed. It was as if I really did want to marry Sam. This led to me thinking over and over…

Was I falling in love with Sam?

**Sam's POV**

I glared at myself in the mirror. I was dressed in a wedding gown Carly had bought for me while I was out rescuing Fredlame from his high tower. It was long and trailed so far behind me I'd need someone to carry it so I didn't slip. It was made of pure silk and sequins were on the neckline. There were gauzy sleeves that sparkled when they hit the light. It made me look pretty. I didn't want to look pretty; I didn't want the dork to think I wanted to look good for him.

"Oh, Sam, you are gor-ge-_ous_!" Carly said, stretching out all the syllables of the last word.

"Ah, shut up." I said, turning my glare unto her. She crumpled her forehead in puzzlement and went over to sit on her bed. Since it's, like, a super-old tradition that the bride and groom can't see each other before the ceremony, Freddie was with Gibby and Spencer in Spencer's bedroom and I was with Carly, Wendy, and Melanie—my maid of honor and bridesmaids; Freddie's best man was Gibby—in Carly's bedroom. All of them gave me weird looks when I told Carls to shut up.

"What's the prob, sis?" Melanie asked, standing. The two of us looked very similar (though her dress was pink and sleeveless) in our gowns but somehow I felt prettier. It sucked. I sighed and collapsed on Carly's bed. The three stared at me as they awaited an answer. I said "I don't want to marry Fredmunch."

"You're not really marrying Fredmu—Freddie." Wendy said, giggling a bit at her mistake, "It's only pretend!"

"Thank you, Captain _Duh_!" I said forcefully, and Wendy shrunk back in her chair.

"What's the matter with you?" Carly asked, throwing her hands up in the arm in a melodramatic way. I knew what the matter with me was: I was starting to feel something towards Freddie.

Shoot me, put me in an insane asylum, place me in a home, whatever. It's true. I don't know but after only two days I started to feel like I liked Freddie more. The way he treated me over the couple of days made me feel special—the proposal made me feel like a guy could actually find me perfect. It was fake, no chiz, but I felt pleasant. However, he punched Finn the Flirty Waiter, and his anger was too realistic to be an act like he said. I couldn't believe him; it just didn't seem possible. This is why one question kept nagging me:

Was Freddie falling in love with me? This gave me another hard-to-answer question…

Was I falling back?

**It's an important filler though y'all hate the lack of action.**


	15. For Better or For Worse

**_Special Note!: _OMG! In an upcoming episode of**_** iCarly**_** they'll finally show Sam's mom! And guess what? She'll be played by **_**Jane Lynch/Sue Sylvester**_**! And I know it's not a rumor because it was on DanWarp!**

**Sam's POV**

"I think…I'm…gonna puke." I panted, hunched over. Just past the big wooden doors before me was a church full of friends, relatives, and Freddie. He would be waiting at the altar for me. And so would a priest (actually Spencer, because it wasn't meant to be official. Don't ask how we got the church) to fake-marry me to him. It was phony but I still felt my stomach churning.

"Breathe in, and out." Carly consoled, patting my back, "Breathe in, and out. It'll all be chill." I nodded but I wanted to rip something apart; whenever I got sick to my stomach breaking a dish or ripping a pillow always helped, but the church would frown on me knocking over a Jesus statue. Not that I would do that. I had respect for the church…but I wanted to break something so bad!

The most nerve-wracking moment of this challenge had arrived and I was terrified. The idea of wedding him was too much to handle. I wish that Andrea chick said we could elope—it'd make things easier…

The wooden doors pulled open abruptly and I stood up straight from my hunched over position. This was it, do or die; win or lose; go through or quit the bet. Every head turned to look at me: I saw Dave and Fleck, the two web comedians who almost tore Carly and I apart. Then there was Guppy in the cutest tuxedo ever next to his mother. Socko was behind them along with Tyler, their ties and socks flashing (I bit back a laugh). Jeremy (aka Germy) was blowing his nose in a handkerchief as he looked to me too. Principal Franklin sat in the far back along with (surprise, surprise) Mr. Howard, Miss Briggs, and Miss Ackerman. The last three looked grumpy and displeased at being there, which made me smirk. Griffin was there too in full leather. He seemed pretty darn relaxed as he had his arm wrapped around some dame who I didn't know and didn't care to know. A lot of the Ridgeway kids were there—kids I liked, hated, and didn't know—and some girls of various ages who looked happier than they did at Christmas. Freaks.

_Now or never, Sam-o,_ I thought, taking a deep breath. I tore my eyes away from the people in the pews and set them on Spencer, who was holding a heavy-looking book and wore some kinda dress. Or a toga. Whatever priests wear; you know I'm not sure…

In front of Spence was Benson. His tux actually made him look good like on our double date, except for his kitschy tie with too many colors. The sole flaw in his perfect outfit. He took in me and his eyes widened as a small grin formed on his mouth. It made me grin too (though I tried to look as sullen as possible) and I began to walk down the aisle.

**Freddie's POV**

Gazing at Sam, I found her the most stunning creature ever. Not even Carly could compare with her beauty—Sam in that wedding dress was far prettier than any girl I'd dated or crushed on. I tried to tell myself it was only Sam but that didn't stop my heart from fluttering.

She moved up to the altar; my heartbeat increased twentyfold and my tongue dried. I wondered if this is how my father felt before marrying Mom…if this is how _every_ dude felt before getting hitched. I wasn't really marrying her but the idea was still petrifying.

"Don't worry, Freddo," Spencer whispered to me, "it'll all be fine. It's not real." Yeah, that didn't help much.

Sam stepped up onto the altar with her bouquet of red roses and blue tulips. They made purple, a personal favorite color of hers. Whether or not it was purposely done that way, I found it an interesting and nice arrangement.

Spencer fumbled with his book a second, causing a few giggles from those in the pews. Sam rolled her eyes and put one hand on her hip as she waited for him to stop his klutziness. Once he had turned to the correct page and was holding it levelly, he cleared his throat and began:

"We are gathered here today," he boomed, his loud voice hurting my ears, "to join in holy mattress-money—"

"Matrimony, you dolt!" Sam hissed. More chortles came from everyone, excluding Griffin and his, um, "little friend". Spencer shrunk away from Sam's glower and again cleared his throat.

"Matrimony," he said, "this woman and this man. Alrighty then…" He took about another two minutes to turn the page without dropping the huge book (he wasn't successful). I think it took Sam a lot not to just pop him in the nose right then; her face was very annoyed. I had to hold back a chuckle, so a giant smile was on my face.

Spencer turned to me after getting situated again. "Do you, Fredward Karl Benson, take Samantha Joy Puckett as your lawfully wedded wife to have and to hold, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till…this week's over?" I put my eyes on Sam's and she stiffened at my gaze. I took a deep breath and said:

"I do."

"Okey-dokey!" Spence cried like a schoolboy, now looking at Sam, "Do you, Samantha Joy Puckett, take Fredward Karl Benson as your lawfully wedded husband to have and to hold, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till this week's over?" Sam kept her steady connection with me. Her mouth hung open as she breathed harder. There was silence in the church as every eye was on Sam to see if she would back out of the bet or not.

"I…do." she said. Several people raised their eyebrows, shocked Sam was going through with it. Others (Gibby and Carly, for instance) smiled knowingly. And two—Griffin and his babe—were ignoring everyone as they lip-locked. Remind me not to invite them to my actual wedding. Spencer gave a smile much like Gib's and Carly's.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife until Saturday!" he shouted, and cheers echoed, "You may now…er…well, you know what to do…" He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and shied away from our faces. Sam and I both laughed a little at him; she had an expression that didn't radiate unease and discomfiture at all. In fact, she was the first to move.

"We've already done it twice." she said, "What's a third time?" Then she kissed me. Wolf-whistles came from a bunch of dudes and more cheers came from the gals. I smiled behind my covered mouth and when Sam released me, I still held tight to her hand. We grinned at each other before Sam let out a yell and ran down the aisle, dragging me along.

Everyone ran out with us: Gibby and Carly were at our tails, Wendy and Melanie (I know she's real now) were just behind them; the other attendees were following them, and Spence was the last due to his giant book. Griffin and his dame had finally gotten off the other's face and were walking in a strut behind the crowd and in front of Spencer.

We threw open the wooden doors and the sunlight glowed on our skin. The entire throng was on the sidewalk, us at the head, almost on the street. Sam raised her bouquet and tossed it into the air. Hands reached out to grab it but one lady caught it amidst the younger girls. The crowd parted so we could spot who had nabbed the lucky flowers. A hush fell over all when we saw.

My mother was staring back at Sam and I as she held the red-and-blue bouquet.


	16. Allowed

**Freddie's POV**

Mom walked forward in a painfully slow manner. Not one person said a thing as she moved, the flowers still clutched in her bony fingers. Sam straightened up and looked ready to fight when my mother laid eyes on her. She never let people push her around—even the mothers of her friends.

Mom stood right in front of us. Her eyes scanned our bodies and our hands, which were still pressed together from when Sam dragged me. I was scared she'd rip me from Sam and haul me away to never see the sun again. But instead of blowing her stack, she did the most unexpected thing.

She calmly gave Sam the bouquet back.

"Fredward, Samantha, can I speak to you?" she asked, "In private?" Mom nodded in the direction of the crowd. I said sure, and the three of us walked through the pack back into the church.

Inside my mom sat on a gray stone bench, shaking her head. I sat beside her while Sam stayed standing. We both stared at Mom as she continued to shake her head, like she couldn't believe anything that had happened. Soon she stopped shaking and bore into me with her eyes.

"When you didn't get up for breakfast this morning," she said, launching into her story, "I figured you were still angry with me, but I couldn't let you starve. So I knocked on your door with a plate of food but you didn't answer. I opened the door to see something under the sheets but it looked too misshapen to be you. Sure enough, pulling back the covers there were pillows and your Galaxy Wars helmet." I heard Sam snigger a bit at the fact I owned a helmet of something so "nubbish". Mom said nothing to her and went on:

"The first thing I did was contact Spencer. You're always over at Carly's place so I had no doubt you'd be there again. There was an interesting message on the answering machine. And I quote: 'Sorry, but we won't be in today. We're going to Sam n' Freddie's wedding. Unless you're Mrs. Benson; then we're going to, um, the…er, the…grocery store! Uh, yeah! That's it! Grocery store…please leave a message at the sound of the beep.' And unquote." I groaned and put my face in my hands; only Spencer would be so moronic without trying.

"After that I realized something." Mom said, "If you escaped the apartment just to marry her"—she waved to Sam—"then I suppose you really do love her. Who am I to stop you?" Sam's blue eyes enlarged and my jaw dropped to my chest. _Mom_ gave _me_ permission to marry _Sam_? Was the apocalypse near?

"Wait," I said, "you're letting me marry her?" She nodded, her eyes wide as Bambi's.

"Yes, don't you want to?" she asked with worry. Quickly I replied with a yes and she settled down.

"In that case, I hope you're happy." She smiled weakly and I felt a smile come onto my own face. Not because she was allowing me to love Sam but because she was finally allowing me to be who I was—she was allowing me to be an adult. I would never be cheerier than when my mother let me be myself. I couldn't contain myself from giving her a giant bear hug, to which she responded by holding me tight. I felt like a little boy again to have my mom hug me without first checking for ticks. Sam seemed uncomfortable as we had a mother/son moment, so I said "Group hug, Sam!" She rolled her eyes but with a smile, and wrapped her arms round the two of us.

* * *

At the reception later that day I was standing idly by the punch. Everyone was mingling and having a ball in the pure-white room Carly booked the reception at. The tables had white tablecloths with gold embroidered; one had changed to red after Spencer spilt punch over it. Mom was scolding him as she attempted to clean it.

Carly and Gibby were talking and laughing and holding hands. A red rose was in Carly's hair whilst a blue tulip was in Gibby's shirt pocket. After we'd left the church, Sam again tossed the bouquet away and Carly caught it. Now she and Gib were conversing about when to plan _their_ wedding. The rest of the guests were talking to each other and some were dancing a little to the absent music. Griffin and his girl were making out elsewhere, and I didn't care to know. The one person I didn't see was Sam.

I looked around for her when suddenly a light shined down on my face. I was so surprised I dropped my glass, spilling more Wahoo! Punch for Mom to clean. An announcer-like voice came on that rumbled "Now is time for the first dance for the newlyweds. Freddie and Sam, c'mon out and dance!" A song came on through the speakers then and I recognized it instantly: "Running Away" by AM. The song Sam and I kissed to.

And just like that, there she appeared in her silk white dress, another light shining on her like on me. The two of us stood in the center of the room, unmoving, not speaking. I didn't like everyone staring at us. Sure, we kissed in front of everyone, but Sam made the first move then. Now she wasn't making any move and I wasn't planning on making one either.

"Dance already, nubs!" someone shouted. Sam glared in the direction the voice screamed and I knew she was bent on killing them. In a flash I was holding her arms to keep her from the bloodshed she'd commit. Cheers and sighs came; I realized I was close enough to dance with her now—heck, I was holding her. A blush crept up on my face, but I couldn't back away when I was already there. I moved my hands around her arms and around her waist. She got what I was doing and maneuvered her arms around my neck, and allowed herself to rest her head on my chest. We swayed contently to the soft chorus of the song.

_I don't know if I'm gonna change…wasting time and another day…_

Others began to dance outside the circle Sam and I were in, couples and friends alike: Carly and Gibby, Melanie and Dave, Wendy and Fleck, Griffin and his gal-pal (they finally surfaced), Miss Briggs and Mr. Howard, Principal Franklin and Miss Ackerman, Gibby's mom and Socko, even Spencer and Mom. But Sam and I were the only ones with a spotlight and enough room.

_Running away…even from the good things…_

Sam burrowed her head deeper into my chest, and I just responded with hugging her closer. I gotta say it was so tranquil to be dancing with her. It felt so…right. Like Sam was the person I was meant to dance with forever. This tidbit fed the idea I might've been falling for her.

"Freddie?" she whispered, after a few serene minutes. No one else heard for her tone was quiet and we were apart from all the rest. She lifted her head from me to stare me straight in the face.

"Yeah?" I said. Her irises sparkled with fear, something she never had. Sam was never afraid.

"I…" she said, "I think…I think…your fly's open." She said this with a defeated sigh; that wasn't what she was going to say. She was going to say something else but chickened out. What was she going to say but was too scared to?

She nuzzled her head once more in the crook of my neck, so I reluctantly took her answer and put my chin upon her curls, and we continued to dance until the song ended.

**I have a bad feeling this chapter sucked...**


	17. The Move In

**Sam's POV**

Stupid me. Stupid, idiotic, moronic, dumb me. I had to go and potentially ruin my reputation by uttering three words to Freddie. Now he knew I had something to say, and he'd surely hound me until I gave up. I almost told him I was falling for him. What a dope I am to think I could say that and have it be normal—have him reply that he too loved me. I know it felt like the two of us were being pulled together by some magnetic force of destiny…but how could I be so sure?

I was packing my suitcase to go over to Carly's house. She hadn't explained to me why I needed to pack but just said to get a few days worth of clothing, and come over. So I made sure to put my T-shirts, jeans, hoodies, and pajamas in my bag. If it was a slumber party, I hoped Fredlumps wouldn't drop by. Tell you the truth, I got nervous at Carly's sleepovers 'cause I was worried he'd see me in my PJs. I didn't wear long pants and shirts; I wore short shorts and tanks with spaghetti straps. Sometimes I just wore a floppy T-shirt that barely went to my knees. I despised going to Japan overnight where he'd see me in my slumber attire—that's one of the reasons I told him to go in the same room as she mother (that, and to irritate him beyond hope of recovery).

The drive to Carly's was short. I lived in a neighborhood nearby Bushwell Plaza, so my mom didn't have to drive me too far. After a shouting match with Captain Wartburger in the lobby, I hustled up the eight flights to her apartment, and entered without a knock. She was in the living room with Spencer watching the Dingo channel; neither acknowledged me. I tossed my luggage to the side and saw, as it landed, that it landed on two other suitcases. One was pink—Carly's. The other was raggedy with spray paint all over—Spencer's.

"What up with the bags?" I yelled. The two of them realized my presence, and sputtered awkwardly at my having noticed their things.

"Well, erm…" Carly said, "I…kinda wanted to discuss it with you after—"

"Hola, mi amigos y amigas!" Freddie's voice came right before a slammed door. I turned my head to him and his Spanish-speaking mouth's grin fell. In his hand was a suitcase, which again aroused my suspicions.

"Why do you have that, Benson?" I demanded of him, pointing at his bag. He glanced at it and shrugged like he didn't know where it came from but I _knew_ he did.

"Carly told me to bring it…" he said. I turned to Carly, who was smiling feebly. I'd wipe that smile clear off her lips if she didn't tell me what the chiz was going on.

"Okay, what up?" I said, "You tell me to pack a suitcase and then Freddie shows up with one too, right after I found your own suitcases over there. What, are we running away to Mexico together?" Freddie had dropped his bag too and was standing next to me, mirroring my angered pose (arms crossed, eyes narrowed). Spencer and Carly rose from their seats and she stepped forward, looking tired.

"In the e-mail, Andrea said you had to move in together as Stage Four of the challenge." she explained, "We figured…well, _I_ figured Spencer and I would go to a hotel and you could have the apartment. We didn't tell you because, frankly, we didn't wanna die."

"Are you frickin' kidding me?" I screeched, "We have to live together an extra night? I can't even be in the same room with him without—" _Declaring my love like a lovesick idiot!_ I thought. I couldn't finish with that or I'd be in some hot water. Carly rolled her eyes and clapped Spencer on the shoulder. It must've been a signal, for he immediately ran to their suitcases, picked them up, and dashed away. Carly ran close on his tail.

"Bye!" she said, "Have fun, you two crazy kids!" With a laugh, she shut the door on us. Freddie and I stared dumbly where they had disappeared to until I gave a moan and collapsed on the sofa.

"Great, just wonderful." I said as he sat beside me, "Now we're stuck with each other for the next few hours. What am I gonna do with a dork around?" Truthfully, I sorta enjoyed the prospect of spending alone time with him. But at the same time I was deathly horrified. Being _alone_ in a _house_ with _him_ just send shivers up my spine.

"Look, I'm not having any fun either." he replied, "However, as the old saying goes: 'When life hands you lemons—'"

"Throw them at your face?" I asked in a sardonic manner, causing him to roll those puppy-dog brown eyes.

"_No_." he said, "You make lemonade. You make do with what you've been given _without_ complaints." After uttering "complaints" he put a single finger on my nose, and I had to hold back biting it off.

"It's apparent me and Life wouldn't get along well." I said with a smirk. He just smirked back and patted my head, which again gave me chills.

"What could we do?" he said, "We could bake a cake, play a board game, do charades—"

"Bury me after I die of boredom from you talking." I teased. Freddie rolled his eyes and appeared to give up on giving suggestions, for he began flipping through channels after I said that. Not that I minded; television was better than some dorky game of checkers.

He kept channel-surfing absently—I doubt he even saw what was on. FOX, Dingo, CBS, ABC, NBC…every frickin' network but no shows worthwhile. Socialization was a no for us, though—imagine if I slipped and said something I'd regret. Or if he'd ask what I was about to say at the reception. I'd rather watch him switch channels in monotony.

"Hey, _Glee_." I looked up from my daydreaming to find Freddie had landed on a decent TV show. In the scene Finn and Quinn were talking as Rachel eavesdropped with a sad face. I clucked in disappointment, earning a weird expression from Freddie.

"What?" he asked. I tore my face from the TV to glance at him and gave a sigh.

"It's that stupid Finn." I said, "He's been dating Quinn for a long time but now that Rachel's come along he's starting to like her, but won't leave Quinn. Coward. He belongs to Rachel!" I shouted the last sentence and a small quiet settled except for the voices on TV. Then a chortle came from Freddie's mouth.

"You don't watch this often." he said, "He _did_ start moving away from Quinn and onto Rachel, and in the finale he told Rach he loved her." I cocked an eyebrow as I smirked fully.

"Hmm." I said, "You're a Gleek, eh?" He turned scarlet at my mocking voice.

"A lotta dudes watch _Glee_." he muttered. I laughed at his embarrassment and punched him friendly-like in the shoulder. He saw my playfulness and punched me back with his own grin. We kept punching each other lightheartedly then—if we had put any pressure in our punches we'd be dead. But it was a joking fight, like we were best friends. That was kind of what we'd grown to be; Freddie was a very good friend to me. In fact, he treated me better than most of my boyfriends. He was such a gentleman…such a dork. But he's a loveable dork. Which is why I hate him: because I love him so much. Now, though, I had to figure if that love was platonic or romantic.

After our little "fistfight", the two of us went into the Shays' kitchen and raided their freezer. We discovered some Neapolitan ice cream—when they mash up chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry—so we did what any sane people would do: we took the whole block, coated it with whipped cream and chocolate syrup, and dug in with giant spoons.

"This is Heaven." Freddie mumbled with his mouth full of ice cream, "Man, am I glad we got to stay here together."

"Amen, Fredweird." I said, my mouth equally as stuffed with the chiz. We both laughed and returned to our bowls. It _was_ heavenly to be eating that ice cream with Freddie. I guess we could get along pretty well alone. I could relate to and socialize with him as easily as I could with Carly.

We polished off the Neapolitan ice cream and, upon seeing how late it was, decided we should head to bed. We grabbed our suitcases and went up to where the bedrooms were located. Carly told us to go to the spare bedroom right between theirs, but when we opened the door there was one king-sized bed.

"Where's the other one?" Freddie asked while I scoured the room. Besides the bed there was nightstand with an alarm clock, a mini-TV, a bunch of paintings and one wacky sculpture (by Spencer no doubt), a bean bag, and an armchair, but no other bed.

"There isn't one." I said, and then, to my horror, I realized what Carly's intention was. No way! When we were in Japan, I heard a buzzing like a chainsaw and found out it was Freddie's mouth! I was not sharing a bed with a snorer! And even if he didn't snore, I wasn't sharing with him at all!

"Well, too bad for you." I said, hopping onto the bed, "You'll have to sleep on the couch." His eyes enlarged and he looked angry at what I said. Storming over, he dropped his bag and gave me a death-stare.

"I'm not taking the couch!" he yelled, "It's a king-size! We can…share…"

"Ew, no!" I yelled back, "You snore like a buzz saw! I'd get more rest sleeping next to a garbage disposal!"

"Well, you drool!" he countered, "I don't want to wake up in a puddle of your saliva!"

"You won't." I said, picking up his luggage and throwing it hard at him. He caught it with an "oomph" and staggered. "'Cause you're going on the couch." He snarled at me while his left eye twitched in frustration.

"Fine." he said, leaving, "Just to get you to quiet down." I smirked as he slammed the door shut. _Mama always wins_, I thought. I was just thankful he wouldn't see me in my pajamas. As I've stated, that'd be bigger humiliation than slobbering on his pillow.

I changed from my day outfit into dark green shorts and an yellowish-orange tank top. I felt self-conscious when I imagined Freddie seeing me in my pajamas. I'm not pretty like Carly so he'd find it either disgusting or hilarious. Both ways made me feel insecure. Before I could think of any more mental ways to torture myself, I slipped in between the covers and fell asleep.


	18. Revealing Nightmares

**Sam's POV**

_I'm sitting in Carly's bedroom while we talk about boys and how jank school is and chiz. It's like every one of her sleepovers except we're in the spare bedroom. But then Carly says we should hurry and get to sleep so, of course, I ask why. And she says because something might happen if we don't. As I ask what, a giant hand crashes through the window and we both scream. It grabs me and yanks me outside as I move and yell. Carly disappears and I find myself in the hands of King Kong. He growls and thumps his chest with his free hand and I scream for him to put me down but he doesn't listen. Instead he climbs higher up the building until airplanes whizz above and bombs drop from them. All the buildings explode into a massive fire and Kong falls as our one explodes. He drops me, and I fall screaming until I hit the pavement hard. After standing, I'm surrounded by a bunch of cobras and they all try to bite me. I'm in my PJs, which means I'm barefoot, so as I try to run away one gets my toe and venom goes through my bloodstream. I shout in pain but there are no hospitals or people—just a dead oversized gorilla and a lot of hungry snakes. Then it all goes black as the fire and smoke invades my eyes and the snakes slither over my lifeless body…_

As you can imagine, I woke up horrified and sweaty. The nightmare gave me chills and I was scared when I woke up. I kept imagining a big, hairy arm coming in through the window or a bunch of cobras slithering on the floor. Usually I'm the fears-nothing one in our trio, so it was weird being afraid. Yet I was. After a good long minute I couldn't stand the creepy things my imagination conjured up and I ran out of the spare bedroom.

Freddie was sound asleep on the sofa, snuggled up with a fuzzy blanket. It looked uncomfortable for him to be lying there like that. A part of me felt bad for making him sleep on it, but that immediately left me. Oh, gosh, I hated not being in control of my emotions. I was starting to care more about Fredpimple and maybe even love him more. I just wish I knew for sure.

I moved over until I was over his sleeping body. The darkness of the living room sent shivers up my spine; I became so afraid that I found myself shaking the nerd awake. He muttered something incoherent and turned over, his face looking upwards at mine. His eyes weren't fully opened—he was most likely half-asleep.

"Wha…?" he murmured groggily, reaching one bare arm up to me. I realized he was in a tight blue T-shirt and gym shorts. It made me feel even more unselfconfident to see his muscular build through those pajamas.

"I had a nightmare, Freddork." I whispered, "I couldn't stay in that guest bed. Is it alright if I…lay here with you?" _Darn_, I thought, _I sound so vulnerable. This is embarrassing._ However, he didn't look surprised or like he was about to burst out laughing—instead he gave a little yawn and said "'K, c'mere."

I walked around the couch to the front and yanked the blanket off him. Then I crawled next to him and pulled the blanket back on us. His body heat was so warm as I moved close to him. It was strangely comfortable lying there with him. And when he moved his arm to wrap around my waist so I wouldn't fall off, I got a feeling of security and solace. He didn't seem like he knew just what was happening—he fell right back asleep after I laid down—but the instinct to wrap his arm round me and rest his head above mine made me happy, safe, and secure. Lying there in his arms so comfortably helped me fall asleep much faster…

_I'm in a dark room, lying on the floor. I move around and try to see but it's much too dark in here. Out of the blue comes a light from above; for the first time I see the room: it's nothing but four brown walls and a wooden floor. There are no windows or doors at all, and I start to get nervous, worrying that something's lying in wait for me and I won't be able to escape. When I hear steps, my heart speeds up and I gulp down a scream as I spin around. Standing before me is a gorgeous male specimen. He's not wearing anything special—only some tattered denim jeans and a polo with another shirt underneath. I could swear I've seen him elsewhere…oh yeah! That's Freddie! Man, does he look good..._

_"Morning, Sam." he says. His tone is quiet but melodic. He gives me a loving grin and moves closer. I grin back and also take a step near him._

_"Where are we?" I ask, for this place is one I've never been in before. He doesn't answer—I don't think he even knows I said anything. Instead he closes the space between us by wrapping his arms around me and places his mouth on mine. I don't pull back but just stand there as he kisses me. When he moves away, we're still very close._

_"I love you, Sam." he whispers. I put my head under his chin, feeling like nothing could hurt me ever again. It takes me a long time to reply to him. I feel his patience starting to thin. I need to tell him I love him too or that I don't. It takes me an eternity to decide. Soon, I decide I love him. So, so, so much._

_"Freddie, I love—" I start to say finally, but then I realize he's not there. I'm hugging the empty air, and he's walking away. I try to run to him but I find I'm trapped by an invisible barrier. I push harder against the unseen wall but I can't get away. So I yell his name over and over but he doesn't turn around or anything. Out of the shadows I see Carly appear. Then Melanie, my sister. And Shannon Mitchell, Valerie, Nora…all the girls that have ever dated or liked Freddie in some way are suddenly surrounding him and he looks so joyous._

_"No!" I scream, "You love me! Don't you love _me_, Freddie? You said you loved _me_! Freddie!" But he's not listening to me (if he can hear me at all). Instead he puts his arm around the girls and says "Any of you ladies wanna come with me?" All raise their hand, so he nods and they all walk away, and I'm still pounding on the invisible wall. I'm losing him…I held my feelings in for too long and now I've lost him. He's off having a party with millions of single girls because I didn't say anything sooner. I start to cry and my voice continues to say "Freddie" until it becomes so weak, I can't say anything more._

Scared and breathing heavily, I awoke. It was worse than my first nightmare with King Kong and his merry band of serpents—much worse. I lost Freddie because I hesitated in telling him I loved him. Was it a sign? Would…would I really lose Freddie if I didn't tell him I loved him? It horrified me to think that'd be true.

"Sam…" muttered a voice much like the harmonious one in my dream realm. I'd know that voice anywhere.

"What do you want?" I snapped, because I knew I had to stay Sam-like even though I was at my most helpless right then. Something shifted next to me and the soft grip around me tightened a bit.

"You were whispering in your sleep." he said calmly, despite my annoyed tone, "I couldn't understand it but you sounded really uncomfortable and…afraid. Are you okay?" I softened with the care his words held. The dream disappeared into the air with him there—it became fiction. With the way he talked to me and held me made that nightmare seem impossible. He wouldn't leave me if I didn't tell him I loved him. But the worry was still there; did I really know what he'd do? What he'd say? Who am I kidding, I didn't even know if he loved me.

"Fine, dude." I said, absently moving closer into him. "Just another nightmare. It hasn't been a good night. Don't let it get you down, just sleep." He didn't respond; when his breathing became slow, I knew he'd fallen back asleep. I moved my face to his and he was indeed asleep. I bit my lip as I patted the arm around me.

"I think I love you." I whispered. He didn't move a muscle so I knew he hadn't heard me. Thank _gosh_. With that said to no one, I closed my eyelids to prepare for another nightmare.


	19. Unsure

**Freddie's POV**

A thump was heard from the pit of the trash bin. Another pancake had met its demise on the dirty floor of the kitchen. I'm a tad OCD when it comes to food touching the floor. My mom (who's a _lot_ OCD about all things untidy) must've influenced me somehow. The whole flapjack dropping problem was caused by five words that had come from a petite blonde's mouth.

I gave up on trying to pry about what her second nightmare was and attempted to fall asleep. Usually it was easy for me to sleep once my eyes were closed but Sam's discomfort nagged me. This made it harder for me to go back to sleep, so when Sam's sentence was said I heard it.

_"I think I love you."_ Such words as those paralyzed my body with terror and astonishment. It was surreal to think she was reciprocating my hormonal change. Could it be true that Sam and I were a possible couple? The thought was strange but true. Maybe. It was only a half-truth because I didn't know if I loved her back.

I tried to create another clean hotcake but my shaking arms flipped it to the floor, so it was forced to the cemetery of splattered pancakes. _I should've made bacon,_ I thought, _Easier and it'd make Sam happier._ Just thinking her name made me freeze in place. Oh, man, I need to end this now. I wasn't myself with this inner turmoil rumbling inside of me. I needed to decide how I felt about Sam and confront her before I popped from the stress.

Suddenly I felt something against the back of my head. Immediate pain came into my head and I fell to the ground. My hands went to where the pain originated, and a thick liquid came onto my fingers. _I've been shot…_ I thought with horror. I moved a hand to my face to find thick, blue blood dripping from my—wait a minute…_blue_?

"Sucka!" Sam yelled. Her voice was proud and laughs followed. Soon the demonic angel was standing over me, cackling. My chest tightened at the sight of her; she was striking before me, with her flowing blonde hair and oceanic eyes…ugh, I may be sick.

"V-Very funny, Samantha." I grumbled, not of annoyance, but of nervousness—her presence made me stutter. She flashed that signature smirk and lifted the futuristic-looking paintball gun to her mouth.

"Say that one more time and you die a painful, paint-covered death." she fake-threatened. I smirked back with a sly raise of the eyebrow; I was feeling dangerous right then with the adrenaline that coursed in my veins.

"Alright, _Samantha_." I said. She glowered at me, ready for murder. Her lips went on the nozzle and she blew. Out shot a red paintball that spattered against my chest. I clutched where it had gotten me in fake agony.

"Oh…I see the light…" I moaned, "Tell my mom…I love her—"

"Cut the chiz, Benson," Sam said, kicking my shin, "you're a terrible actor. Now take this"—she grabbed something from her belt and tossed it at me—"and fight like a man." My hands went to the silver gun on my stomach. Sam wanted me to fight her in a paintball war. With the newfound, un-Freddie danger feeling, this was going to be a piece of cake.

"If that's what you want, milady." I said and, in a quick flash, I shot a purple paintball at her. She roared animally; it was on. I sprung from my position and ran past her onto the living room couch. She followed, the gun plastered to her face. I lifted mine to my own but she hit me again so hard I fell off the couch. With catlike reflexes I hopped up, shot her once, and headed up to the iCarly studio.

"You'll never win, boy!" she shouted, her feet stomping behind me. I merely laughed to myself while pushing open the studio door. I knew she was close on my tail so I ran to the nearest hiding spot: behind the wall the elevator was located in. I tried to calm my breathing as I awaited Sam. Just a few seconds…any minute now…right about now…No sound came, no shouts, no nothing. This unnerved me—what happened to her? Slowly, I moved my head to peer from behind the wall. She wasn't there. I got out from my hiding spot and ran over to the door. I couldn't see her out there. _She was right behind me,_ I thought. Opening the door, I called her name: "Sam?" No reply. I said it again. Still no answer. I walked out into the small hallway and looked around: nowhere.

"What the he—" A scream pierced the quiet and a weight crashed onto me. Letting out my own shriek, I spun around, trying to fling this thing off my back. A warrior cry came from on top of me and I knew what it was: Sam. She'd been waiting to pounce on me, the lousy—

The weight was lifted from my body but I couldn't relax because she pinned me to the wall. I struggled to free myself from her grasp but to no avail. She spun me around and held my wrists above my head and against the wall. She was so close to me, a devious I-beat-you smile on her face. This was the girl I thought I was in love with? Hoo boy.

"I always keep my promises." she said, "Now, any last words?" We were so near, practically touching. Her hot breath tickled my face and gave me chills. One move from me, and the two of us would be close enough to kiss. That tempted me more than anything ever had.

"Yes." I said, smiling at my joke speech, "I never knew my wife would murder me. I mean, I tried to earn enough money to support us and being a technician for a famous television program I believed could help us immensely. But I suppose even the deepest love could be overcome by the silliest hatred. Just remember that I gave you the best twenty-four hours of my life. And I…I…" My voice disappeared into the air as we gazed at each other avidly. I took a risk and edged closer to her. She didn't pull back or say a word, so I moved closer still. Few more inches and I'll be right there with her…

"Anybody home?" yelled a girl's voice, accompanied by a slam. Sam and I moved away from each other in awkwardness and I could feel a blush on my neck. I almost kissed Sam right there in that very hallway…That _so _did not help my mental (not to mention emotional) chaos.

We hurried downstairs to see Spencer and Carly—with a video camera. The second she saw us she shoved the camera in our faces, an excited grin on hers.

"Sorry, I was just thinking that I needed to get you all on tape!" she said, moving only a little bit away, "I got the dating, the proposal, and the wedding. I totally forgot about the living together!" She grabbed Sam's hand and dragged her off, rambling questions like "How's it been?" and "What'd you do?" I snuck away before she could grab my hand too, and saw Spencer in the kitchen, fixing himself some orange juice. Perhaps a man-to-man talk is what I needed right then. I'd have to spill my guts to a twenty-something man with the mind of a seven-year-old. It didn't seem very tempting. But it _was_ Spence so I could probably trust him.

"Hey, Spencer." I greeted, leaning against the counter. He smiled at me before taking a sip of his juice. "Can I…ask you something?" He nodded, looking suddenly interested and worried.

"Sure." he said, "What up, Freddo?" I took a deep breath before continuing. Time to admit my feelings—no turning back now.

"You see…" I whispered, as he started drinking his juice again, "I think…I might be in love with Sam." I got sprayed with orange juice after finishing. Spencer had juice dripping from his chin from when he spit it out over my face. As I wiped the liquid off me, he set the glass down while shaking.

"A-Are you serious?" he asked. I nodded. His eyes were huge and he started shaking so bad he had to sit down. I too sat, and watched him as he rubbed his temple.

"You okay, dude?" I asked. He waved me away and I shut up. Turning his face to mine, he still resembled a deer in headlights.

"You're in love with Sam _Puckett_?" he said, not waiting for an answer, "Wow. That's unexpected."

"I know, I know." I said, "It's just with all the fake love junk, I'm starting to feel like I really do like her. And she might love me too. Last night she thought I was asleep and told me she thinks she loves me. But that means she's not sure. And neither am I. What am I gonna do?" He held a finger to his lips, making me realize I had raised my voice. I quieted down and checked to see if the girls heard; they hadn't.

"You have to find out if it's love or infatuation." he explained, "To do that, I guess you could try to be lovey-dovey. Fix her a candlelit dinner, put your arm around her during a movie, compliment her, or even kiss her on the cheek. If it feels wrong, you're not in love. If it feels right, you are in love, buddy." I grinned and thanked him.

"I hope you're right." I said.

"When I'm I not?" he said, laughing as he lifted the glass up to his mouth, "I'm a genius." He poured the juice into his mouth but it fell over his shirt. He moaned like a child; I just chuckled and left the room. Sam was on the couch sulking and Carly was walking to the computer. I stood over Sam, taking her in. She was as breathtaking as she was a moment ago, even with the pout on her face. I remembered Spencer had told me compliments were one of the ways to tell if I loved her.

"You look very pretty today, Sam." I said. She looked at me in shock. My stomach clenched with her penetrating gaze; was saying that a mistake? She didn't say anything insulting, though.

"Thanks." she said instead, "Your…shirt's cool." I smiled as a fluttering came in my stomach. She complimented me back. Did that mean anything? Oh, my gosh, love is so complicated. But so wonderful too. I just wasn't sure if it was love or infatuation, like Spencer said. I guess I'd have to give Sam a magnificent time to discover how I truly felt.

Operation Woo the Demonic Angel was now in session.


	20. Wooing the Demonic Angel

**I hope the first part isn't rushed, but I really wanted to get to the point in the chapter.**

**Freddie's POV**

Carly and Spencer left after getting their footage and uploading the rest on iCarly's website. That left Sam and I again alone with each other. I was planning on executing Operation Woo the Demonic Angel (aka WDA) very soon. She was lounging around on the sofa while I calculated what I'd need to woo her. Spencer had said I should make a candlelit dinner. That was the perfect idea.

I asked Sam to head out to the store and buy a six pack of soda. After groaning and arguing, she agreed and left. The second that door closed behind her I started preparing everything. First off I fixed a full meal of spaghetti and meatballs. Then I went over to my own apartment and picked up my suit. It was faded blue and came with a white-striped collar shirt and gray tie. It had been my father's before he passed away, and I always wore it to special occasions. I guessed determining my feelings for a girl I'd fake-married qualified as special. After putting that on, I set the table up and dug some CDs out of a box of my favorite bands. I tried to find the best song track for dinner—one that'd definitely determine Sam's feelings for me. After a good long search, I found the perfect song. I put the CD in the CD player and, since all was done, waited for Sam.

She returned from the store just after I got everything done. She came in casually but, once she saw the lights were dimmed, she must've realized something was going on. Tossing the soda pop onto the sofa, she noticed me in my tux. She raised one eyebrow as an uneasy smile made way onto her face.

"What up, Benson?" she asked, laughing a little. The small laugh caused my belly to flip anxiously. Now was the time to lie or go through with it. I was prim and ready to woo a demon and an angel in my father's suit. Couldn't rightly back down then, could I?

"I fixed dinner." I said, motioning to the table of pasta, "Figured if we were married, one of us would cook." She appeared impressed with the way she tilted her head, so I turned my back to her and went to the kitchen. She followed and stood gazing at the candles' fire with interest. Being a gentleman, I pulled her chair out for her. She gave me a weird look but sat anyway. I then walked over to my own chair and sat too.

Sam was already digging into her spaghetti before I sat. It was amusing with the way she pigged out on food but not revolting—okay, not revolting from my perspective right then. In the light of the flame, she had a lustrous glow on her face. It accentuated her bright sapphire eyes which were without doubt her best feature. This led to wonder if she enjoyed _my_ muddy brown eyes…

"Good pasta, Fredweirdo." Sam's voice awakened me from my deep thoughts on her opinions of me. I took myself back to reality and smiled in a bashful manner.

"Thanks." I said, "It's an old family recipe. My great-grandma made it from a regular Italian pasta sauce by adding some Czechoslovakian flair 'cause my mom's maiden name is—I'm boring you, aren't I?" I stopped discussing the famous Benson Pasta Sauce after I saw Sam's eyelids starting to droop. I knew how my voice affected her (once on a Bigfoot trip she said it hurt her ears) so her falling asleep was probable. Of course, Sam sleeps _a lot_. Still, though, it'd be bad if she fell asleep during our date/my wooing.

"No chiz." she answered, "I don't wanna her you rambling about some Czech sauce. It spoils my appetite." I knew she wasn't lying (she was being _pretty_ blunt) so I shut up after that. But not without a smirk as I went for Step Three of my wooing.

"Okay, I'll stop talking." I said while grabbing the stereo's remote. I kept it handy in case of silence to keep the mood. "Let me purely put on some music." She shrugged to signal her not caring, so I pushed the PLAY button. A soft piano tune floated through the air around us, making Sam no longer sleepy; she lifted up her head to stare at the stereo in bemusement.

_I know just how to whisper…and I know just how to cry…I know just where to find the answers, and I know just how to lie…_

So I have a thing for rock ballads. It certainly set the mood. Sam was a bit confused on the song choice plus the atmosphere of the moment. I expected her to not understand; I was setting us up on a date for Pete's sake. If the tables were turned, _I'd_ be baffled too.

_I know just how to fake it…and I know just how to scheme…I know just when to face the truth, and then I know just how to dream…_

"Like it?" I asked, and she turned to me, "It's 'Making Love Out of Nothing At All' by Air Supply. My dad played it at my parents' wedding. It's a favorite of Mom's…" I trailed off at the look in her eyes. It was still puzzlement but the shine her pupils carried made me lose track of everything. I had to look away so I wouldn't break down. _Oh, man, I think I'm in love,_ I thought nervously.

_And I know just where to touch you…and I know just what to prove…I know when to pull you closer, and I know when to let you loose…_

"Nice." she said, avoiding my gaze also, "Got a thing for 80's chiz, huh?" I chuckled a little at her lightening the mood.

"Eh. More like romantic rock ballads." I replied. This made her tense again, and I wasn't sure whether to be glad or upset.

_And I know the night is fading! And I know that time's gonna fly! And I'm never gonna tell you everything I gotta tell you but I know I've got to give it a try..._

I moved my hand into my pocket where a slip of paper laid. I kept it with me ever since the trip to the principal's office: the fake poem I wrote for Sam. Only now it was sort of real. I can honestly say I was being drastic with discovering Sam's feelings on me, but no pain no gain.

"I wrote this for you a few days ago." I said, unfolding the paper, "It's a poem that I really hope you like—" I couldn't finish for Sam had stood, clicked the music off, and placed a hand on her hip. Her eyes were accusing, and she began speaking before I could say a thing.

"What is wrong with you?" she asked. I opened my mouth to say something but she cut me off. "You fix me a candlelit dinner with spaghetti—the most romantic dish in the book—wear a suit, put on slow music, and now a love poem? Dude, what the chiz?" She waited for me to respond. My plan had backfired terribly and now she was confronting me on it—not good. Thank you, Spencer, for the wondrous ideas. I stood from my chair, shaking, and tried to find the right words.

"Sam…we're…you know…we're supposed to be in 'love' because of the bet—" I started but she again didn't let me finish.

"You need to seriously tone down this acting!" she shouted, anger evident in her eyes, "First you pummel a waiter in public, and then you're going all out on a date! You don't even care about me, so waste this all on Carly or someone!" She rolled her eyes in fury and began walking away but something within me made me yell to her:

"Maybe I really _do_ care about you!" This stopped Sam in her tracks. Inside my head a voice screeched _Idiot! Moron! Pea-brain!_ But it had already flown out of my mouth into her ears, so all I could do was wait. She turned to face me, astonishment clouding her pupils. I must've looked the same way.

"What?" she whispered, "You actually…yeah, right, this is another trick. We hate each other, bud."

"We do?" I said with malice, about to reveal a secret I didn't want to, "It didn't sound like that last night." Her face scrunched in puzzlement. "You thought I was asleep, so you said 'I think I love you', not knowing I heard it." Her face whitened, all the color drained away. We stood there, quiet and unmoving, like statues in a park. If I could go back in my life and redo something, it'd be erasing those words. We don't live in a world with time machines so you can guess what happened.

Sam tried to retaliate but ended up running away into the bedroom. I heard a slam and a faint click; not worth running after her. Oh chiz, what did I do? I walked over to the dinner table while sulking. Resting next to my plate was the paper the poem was written on. Wasn't worth keeping now. I picked it up, crumbled it, and threw it with a grunt into the trash can, where it resided with the gloppy pancakes.

I didn't hear anything that sounded like an opening door. This disheartened me; Sam wasn't coming back from the spare bedroom anytime soon. Thus I decided to change into my pajamas and crawl onto the sofa. I could remember the other night, after Sam's nightmare, when she came and we went to sleep together. Of course, that made me remember her five words, which led me to remember the fight we just had. Married life sure sucks.

_No use in thinking about it,_ I thought, _Might as well go to sleep._ Easier said than done.


	21. A Talk With Van

**Sorry for not updating very soon! I've been thinking about this new action story I'm planning on writing for either _iCarly_ or _Glee _but I can't publish it until I finish two stories. Or something like that. So that's why I haven't been updating. Hopefully I'll get it out of my head for awhile to write this.**

**Sam's POV**

Ever been so humiliated and upset that you lock yourself in a dark bedroom, play depressing heavy metal music, and cry? Okay then, multiply your feelings by ten, add by fifty, and multiply by one hundred. That's how I felt that Thursday night.

Freddie had set us up on a big schmancy date with candles, Italian food, and romantic music. It was kind of, sort of nice considering I was starting to change towards him but I refused to get my hopes up—if you keep your hopes up, they'll get crushed and you'll feel horrendous. Simple solution: don't get your hopes up. Then they can't get crushed. But, problem: they still can.

I got fed up with it and called him out. He said we were supposed to pretend we were actually husband and wife; the nerve! He goes to all that trouble to woo me and then says it's an _act_? Total repeat of the fight with Finn. And I really liked that dude too…

I was going to run into the bedroom but then he shouted that he…he _did_ care about me. And—if I'm correct—caring about someone is equivalent to being in love with them. Him, Fredward Karl Benson, in love with me, Samantha Joy Benson? Hold it, _no_! Puckett! I'm a _Puckett_! Shoot.

I was terrified beyond terror to face him that next morning. The night was miserable without him too. I had another nightmare but I couldn't go sleep with Freddie because I didn't want to see him. So I hid under the covers and cried from panic. All I needed was his arms around my waist and him breathing into my curls—I simply needed to fall asleep next to him. I couldn't, though, so I didn't fall asleep. Then when morning came around I couldn't leave.

Around 8:00 AM, a knock came at my door. My heart tightened in my chest; was it Freddie? Please no, no, no, no—

"Sam?" said the voice of Freddie. I nearly let out a whimper. I didn't answer him nor did I open the door; I stayed in the bed, staring with enlarged eyes at where he was. "Sam, please come out." he continued, "You've been in there too long. I know stuff happened last night but aren't you hungry?" _Yes, Dipthong, I'm starving!_ I yelled within my brain. I did not say anything out loud for I didn't want to talk to him.

"Fine." His tone became harsh. "Just…stay in there! Why do I care?" I could've sworn I heard a mumbled "Why do I?" but I can't confirm that. Footsteps went away from the door; Fredloser was gone but I was still hungry and lonely.

Awhile later I heard the bell ring, and the front door open. I leapt from the bed and to the door isolating me from Freddie. No conversation could be heard, which frustrated me. Soon, though, footsteps came to my door again.

"Sam, you have to come out now." Freddie said, "A package arrived for you." A _thud_ resounded and Freddie's feet were heard leaving. I waited a few seconds, and then opened my door. At my feet was a weird pad thing. It had straps coming from both sides, and the middle was inflated like a belly. When I poked it, it was soft. First confused, I then realized this was a pregnancy pad. I identified it from watching _Glee_. You know, that show Fredpimple and I were watching with Quinn, Rachel, and Finn? Uh-huh. Moving on.

Andrea must've shipped it out to Carly's apartment so I looked pregnant while I acted pregnant. Dang, that girl is _precise_. I hate perfectionists, especially marital perfectionists. Oh well. I picked up the pad and brought it into the bedroom. Once I had my regular clothes on, I slipped my pregnancy pad under my shirt, took a deep breath, and stepped outside.

Freddie was listening to A Rocket to the Moon, and he was particularly forlorn-looking as he sat at the table. Food was arranged on the table but he wasn't eating. Walking quietly over to him, I found he was talking to himself.

"She won't even eat." he mumbled, "Good going, Freddork. If Sam's not hungry because of you, you have problems. I wish I could get her to speak to me. Such an idiot." He's tortured himself enough; I had better reveal myself.

"Mmm, bacon." I said; he jumped in his seat, and turned to find me. Upon seeing my face, his became a fiery magenta. I'm confident mine flushed too but I tried to stay collected so the whole mess could be put behind us, and we'd go back to hating the other. I snatched some strips of bacon and shoved them into my mouth; they tasted succulent like every oinker did cooked. That's right, all you vegans—Mama loves her meat. Freddie watched me with incredulity. I shot him a look that said "Don't talk about it"; he got the hint, and went for his own bacon. I, however, share with no one—even my husband.

"Keep your hands _back_, boy." I snarled, taking the plate away from him, "This is Mama's meat. Go make your own." He looked affronted but a smile came upon his face. Doggone it, he made me smile.

"This _is_ my own!" he yelled, "Dear." Ugh, pet names? No one said nothing about pet names. Yuck.

"Not anymore." I yelled back, "Honey." You do not know how bad that word tasted in my mouth. A smirk appeared on his face; I'll _bet_ he enjoyed that.

Once I finished up with my bacon I craved a cup of Skybucks coffee. Don't ask me why, I just did. Freddie was still chewing on his breakfast but Mama comes first—_always_.

"C'mon, Fredzit, why don't we go to the coffee shop?" I asked as sweetly as I could. He rolled his eyes at me, obviously not in the mood to drive the girl he might love to get coffee. Can't say I was thrilled either.

"Fine, sweetheart." he said, grinning like he really was my husband, "I'll pull the car around." The two of us (me warily looking at Freddie's stupid grin) went down to the lobby, and then out to where Freddie's car was parked. It was strange how we had an embarrassing moment last night but then we went back to acting like it never was. I liked it but it unnerved me; like it was the calm before the storm.

Once we arrived at the coffee place, he went to go get us our beverages (after I yelled "Get my cappuccino, Freddichino", thinking myself clever) while I barfed in my mouth watching all these lovey-dovey kissy-face couples sitting around, drinking from the same cup. All of them were all "You're so cute." and "No, you're cuter!" and "No, _you're_ cuter!" and blah blah blah. Love is so overrated with teens going gaga; I hope I'm never like that when _I'm_ in love.

I watched one particularly annoying couple feeding each other spoonfuls of ice cream when I bumped into someone's chair. I caught myself as I fell, and stood back up to find an old lady sitting in the chair I banged into.

"I'm sorry, ma'am!" I apologized. She smiled weakly with one hand over her heart.

"It's okay," she said, "I'm fine. Oh, I see you're expecting!" Her hand pointed to my belly. I just nodded with a fake grin, not ready to explain the entire challenge to this grandma.

"Yeppers," I said, "we're one happy family now. Yay…" She didn't notice my nonexistent cheer; instead she gestured for me to sit. I know, I know: never talk to strangers. But I'm confident I could beat this granny in a fistfight if she was a secret kidnapper person. I sat across from her and extended my hand.

"Samantha." I said, "Call me Sam." She took my hand in her wrinkled one and shook it.

"Vanessa." she introduced, "Call me Van." I don't know why but the fact she had a nickname at her age made me feel much more comfortable. Guess it's because it was something we had in common.

"Which one's yours?" Van asked. At first I didn't get what she meant but then I realized: my "husband". Oh, chiz. I hoped she didn't see my awkward expression as I aimed my finger at Freddie's back. He turned at that moment so she could spot his face. Her eyebrows rose considerably upon seeing him.

"Hmm." She smiled. "He's a good catch. Doesn't seem like your type, though." _Wow, you hit it on the dot, _I thought.

"Tell me about it." I laughed, "He's one big fat dork. And I'm tomboy to the max." She giggled at my disdain, causing me to raise my own eyebrows.

"Classic." she said, "Me and my Chris were exactly like you and your…um—"

"Freddie." I said before I could stop myself. She merely smiled again and patted my hand.

"Your Freddie," she said, "when we were at your age. Twenty, I presume?" I just nodded. "Yes. We met here, at this very table. He came up to me, clad in his army uniform, and said 'Why, I don't believe we've met. I am Christopher William Burrows. And you are?' I said 'I'm Vanessa Faye Gatlin. No, we haven't met, and I'd prefer it to stay that way'." We both laughed at her comment; I could just picture the poor sap's face.

"I thought Chris was brash and, after getting to know him, a bit of a dork. He never flirted with me again after learning of my less than feminine nature. We stayed in touch because my sister met him elsewhere and fancied him very much. I won't go into details of their meeting, but he loved her madly and hated me dearly. The feeling was mutual.

"My sister and he went out a few times but his prolonged crush on her ended soon after he finally tried dating her. Who knows why? Anyhow, since they were no longer together, Chris's crush on her left and he went on to find new girls. Someway during that time I became one of those girls. Neither of us admitted it until one fateful day." She stopped with a faraway look in her gray eyes. She couldn't just leave me hanging, could she? I tapped her arm, snapping her back to reality.

"What day?" I asked.

"The day we kissed." She smiled. I felt myself blush because it was like she was peering into my innermost thoughts. The day they kissed was the day their feelings changed. I hate to say it but that's like us. After Fredwart and I kissed, we were more like friends than enemies. Our insults were more like playful teasing. But what if that enemy-to-friend was actually enemy-to-love? And those insults-to-playful teasing was actually insults-to-playful flirting? What if Freddie and I had been in love all along?

"In a few months we were married." Van's words knocked me out of my musings. "And now we have three beautiful children and five beautiful grandchildren. I wish you the same good fortune we have."

"Th-Thank you, Van." I stammered, trying to maintain a smile. I really was thankful she took the time to tell me her story but I wasn't thankful it aroused even more questions on my relationship. As she patted my hand, my husband showed up with two cappuccinos, looking a bit confused at my choice of seating.

"Uh, hello?" he greeted Van unsurely.

"I'll get out of your hair." she said, gazing at Freddie in a loving way. She patted his cheek like he was a tint boy. "Good luck, sonny." She laughed, and walked off towards an older man who I guessed to be Chris after she kissed him on the cheek. Freddie raised an eyebrow in my direction, but I just waved it off as I grabbed my coffee. He sat in Van's chair with a smirk.

"Who's that, your gram?" he laughed. I shrugged, taking a sip of my cappuccino.

"Nah," I said, "a friend. A smart friend."

**Is it good? It's not the most _eventful_ chapter but I'm trying best I can.**


	22. Cupid Spencer

**Sorry about the frequent POV-hopping…Also, thanks to everyone who likes this story again! It's on 115 people's Favorites and 128 people's Story Alerts. I've never gotten that many! And, whoa, 401 reviews! That's indescribably awesome!**

**Freddie's POV**

We went back to the apartment after a quiet sipping of our coffees. Sam went off to snack (she claimed it was pregnancy cravings) so I went up to the iCarly studio for privacy. Spencer's intelligent plan blew up in my face so I thought I should give him a call. Was I angry? See for yourself.

"Yellow!" he said after a couple rings, "Spencer here! What can I do for you, Freddo?"

"Thank you for the brilliant plan." I hissed, "I tried it, and everything went badly!" There was a silence on the other end. Guess I'd deflated Spence's perky bubble.

"It went bad?" he said, "That's not good." I rolled my eyes at him. He couldn't see me rolling them, so I told him I did so. "Well, what happened?"

"She blew up at me halfway through. We started arguing, and then she ran off to her room. We haven't talked about it since then. We've just been pretending nothing happened." I heard him go hmmm on the other end.

"Don't worry, bud, I got a lot more good ideas to help you and your—heh heh—lady friend." My eyes got wide. Crud! If he tried to help Sam and me again, he could ruin everything. I didn't want any more of Mr. Spencer Shay's genius plots. I could handle Sam on my own.

"No, no, that's fine!" I said, urgency in my tone, "I don't need any help! It's all cool." He wasn't listening to me, I could tell; Spence never listens to reason.

"Carly, Gibster, and I are coming over. I told the school they had doctor appointments so we can hang however long! I'm just glad I didn't mess it up like last time. Carly still hasn't forgiven me for 'Dr. Rollercoaster'…"

"Yeah, that's great," I said, "but you don't hafta—" The dial tone told me Spencer had hung up._ Great, _I mentally moaned, _He's going to play matchmaker now. Lovely._ Grudgingly I put my cell back in my pocket and headed downstairs. I'd have to try to keep Spencer from issuing his mastermind conspiracy of love. It wouldn't be easy.

**Sam's POV**

Fredpimple told me the gang was coming over soon. I was relieved; all I needed to make me feel better was some girl time with Carls. I wasn't about to tell her of my love life problems but I could talk to her about TV shows, iCarly, boys, et cetera.

Several minutes after Freddie told me, a knock came at the door. I rose from my spot on the couch but—wouldn't you know it—Freddie came running past me to the door, as though he didn't want me answering. It's not like there was an atomic bomb on the other side. Chill out, buddy.

He wrenched the door open. In stepped Carly but she looked as though she had grown, er…wider. Her tummy protruded forward, looking as round as mine. Wait a minute…oh no, she _didn't_! She got her own pregnancy pad too?

"Hello, fellow expecting parents!" she said. Gibby came in and slung his pudgy arm around his supposed wife. Carly patted her stomach with affection as I stood, staring at it. Freddie stared too but curiously, not angrily.

"Why?" I nearly growled. She giggled, expecting the reaction she received.

"I figured you'd be lonely being the only pregnant parent so we went out and bought our own 'baby'." She moved her fingers for air quotes as she said baby. I snarled but I was actually happy. The pad was heavy around my torso and I didn't enjoy looking like all my midnight snacking caught up with me. Having Carly pretending just for me helped me feel better in a teeny way. But having another person didn't. I know what you're thinking: oh, Wendy or Melanie must be there! No. Who's left? You'll never guess.

"Dang, this thing is _hot_!" Spencer complained as he came in through the door, his belly hanging over his belt. Freddie and my eyes went away from Carls's stomach to Spence's. His own pregnancy pad was underneath. Carly made me feel better but Spencer pretending was pushing it. Really, that guy needs psychiatric assistance.

"Oh my—" Freddie started but the group pushed past him to sit upon the couch. Gibby stood standing as us three pregnant gals and guy sat down and propped our shoes on the table. I called for Fredhead to fix us some juice. He mumbled something under his breath and went as told. I saw a smug smirk come onto to Spencer's face.

"You been bossing my man Freddo here a lot?" he kidded. It was a strange joke but no one said anything so I ignored the weirdness.

"Why wouldn't I?" I said. Freddie came over and handed each of us a glass of cranapple juice, and sat on the chair. What was odd was that his face was completely red, like he was embarrassed. I also caught his brown eyes staring at Spencer almost worriedly. _What's that about?_ I thought, sipping my cranapple. I'd have to keep my eye on these two to see what they were up to.

**Freddie's POV**

I'm going to kill Spencer so hard. Already he was trying to smoothly get Sam and I together. No way in heck was I going to allow him to be Cupid. If I wanted Sam, I'd get her myself. A little help would be nice, though…

Sam and Carly started talking about average girl things. I talked with Gibby about average guy things, and Spencer was quiet. His eyes shifted back and forth between Sam and me; I could feel the wheels turning in his head. If only he had half a mind to listen to people over the phone, the tragedy that was to come would never be. Don't get me wrong, I appreciated he cared but I hated it too.

"Could you get me some more cranapple juice?" Spencer asked me, holding up his glass. I knew he was trying to do something sneaky because his cup wasn't empty.

"You haven't finished that glass." I said. Carly giggled but Sam found it as shifty as I did—her eyes stared at Spencer accusingly. Spencer saw his slipup, and downed the entire glass in one gulp. He then held it out to me again.

"Finished." he said. I took his glass in hand but I was being wary in case he tried anything funny. I went towards the kitchen but Sam stopped me, saying to fill up her cup too. Hers really was empty but Spencer's smirk at her still gave me the willies. I grabbed hers too and moved into the kitchen.

I watched Spencer as I poured them their juice. He didn't move or say anything to Sam but he wasn't innocent. I walked back over after pouring the cranapple. I gave Sam's hers first; then I began to hand Spencer his but he snapped his arm out quickly to grab it. I didn't expect it so I backed up quickly. His hand crashed into his glass, and I dropped it onto Sam's stomach. The red juice dribbled off her rotund torso. _Shoot, I'm gonna die,_ I thought, moving away from her.

"What the fudge?" she shouted, "Benson!"

"I didn't…" I started but it wasn't worth my breath. Spencer tried to contain his chuckles; was this his intention? To spill juice in Sam's lap? Probably not. I snatched up a napkin that had been lying on the table and began dabbing it on Sam's shirt. It took five seconds for me to realize we were very close; we hadn't been that close since Sam pinned me to the wall. And back then we had almost kissed. So that was Spencer's plan: casually get us close together. I wouldn't have it.

Sam leaned closer to me but I hopped back. I didn't want this to happen, or at least not this way. I'd get Sam for myself _by_ myself—not with Love Guru Shay. I handed Sam the napkin and ran back to the kitchen to pour her another glass. She wiped away the red stains on her (of course) white T-shirt. I plopped the cup on the table and sat in the chair again. Spencer looked disappointed at my foiling of his plan. _Tough chiz,_ I thought.

We all watched some _Girly Cow_ after running out of things to talk about. Gibby stole my chair so I had to sit on the edge of the sofa, and Sam was next to me. My eyes kept flicking to Spencer in case he'd twist the seating arrangement into a matchmaking possibility. All was calm for awhile until he needed to have a bathroom break.

"I'll be back in a sec!" he said overenthusiastically, and sprinted towards the restroom. When he was done he told us he was getting more cranapple juice (Sam shushed him as her favorite episode came on). I kept my gaze upon him as he crossed the room and into the kitchen. While pouring his juice, he looked up at me and winked. _Dude, I don't _want_ help!_ I screamed in my brain. I seriously wanted to grab his ears and shake him.

Spencer took his cup in hand and waddled over (the pregnancy pad must've been heavy). When he approached the couch, he got very close to me. He tried to make it casual but he literally pushed me off the edge—and into Sam's lap.

"Oopsie!" Spencer shouted. Carly and Gibby looked up at him; his exclamation was suspicious and unrealistic. He shut up after they gave him weird looks. I, however, was still in the predicament of being in Sam's lap. It didn't last long for she shoved me off her and the couch. Landing with a hard _thump_, I moaned and glowered at Spencer. He acted like he did nothing, resembling a child who broke his mom's vase and said "It wasn't me!".

I stood from my spot on the carpet. Spencer helped me up. I was about to thank him when, instead of letting go, he dragged me away from the three teenagers. When we were in our own quiet corner, he whispered "Dude, what up?"

"Huh?" I whispered back.

"You know," he said, "why aren't you working with me here? I'm trying to hook you up with your blonde bombshell but you're resisting." I sighed, rubbing my head as if in pain. No offense but Spencer could be downright stupid.

"I don't _want_ help!" I whisper-yelled. He tilted his head in confusion.

"But over the phone you agreed to me assisting." he said.

"No, I didn't! I tried to tell you no but you weren't listening!" He furrowed his brow and placed his hands upon his wide hips.

"Really?" he said, "Are you sure?"

"_Yes_. I'm _positive_." I sighed. It was like talking to a six-year-old, oi…

He shrugged. "M'kay." he said, "I won't play matchmaker anymore. Just remember: if you don't tell her soon, you'll lose your chance." He then went back to the sofa where he began to delve into _Girly Cow_. I stayed frozen in my spot. Lose my chance? That was philosophic of him to say. I just didn't understand. I wouldn't lose my chance to tell Sam I loved her…or would I? Maybe Spence was right; I mean, if I were to ignore my feelings, Sam would have enough time to get a boyfriend, fall in love with him, _have a family with _him for real, instead of a fake family with me. I could be that guy but if I didn't tell her, I'd never be. I needed to tell her.

I contemplated on when to say it all night. I couldn't say it in front of Spencer, Carly, and Gibby. It'd be awkward enough without company to stare. I couldn't say so after: if she didn't reciprocate my feelings then I'd be stuck with a broken heart and she a guilty conscience while still having to spend the night. I could wait for the challenge to end but then she might rush off to Finn the Waiter. They could start a relationship if he forgave her for my assault. I had to tell her while we were "married". The question was when?

The gang left after a few hours. Before you start thinking I spouted out "I love you, Sam" the minute they left, I didn't. She went up to the bedroom while I stayed in the living room. I changed into my favorite _Galaxy Wars_ pajamas (stop laughing!) with the robots. Once I was done I breathed deep and ran over to Sam's room.

I creaked the door open slowly. All the lights were out, and I could see a bump in the bed. Said bump was wriggling. It was Sam's body, all tucked in for a night's rest. I entered the room, making sure my feet made quiet sounds—I didn't want to awaken her. Once at her bedside, I found she was not asleep for one blue eye was open.

"Go to sleep or Santa won't come." I teased. She smirked at me, and I melted like butter.

"Night, Fredwich." she said. I ruffled her blonde coils and walked back to the door. She said nothing more to me, so I guessed she was trying to fall asleep for real. Staring back at her, I could feel within my heart how much I cared for her. In only a week's time I realized Sam was the one. I just needed to tell her.

"Night, Sam." I said and, before I could stop myself, "I love you." _No, no, no!_ I thought. I'd been thinking so hard about those words that they flew out of my mouth so suddenly. Wide-eyed, I stared back to Sam, waiting for her to jump up in shock.

She didn't.

Instead, very softly, she said "I love you, too." No awkward stares. No angry fight. No running away. She simply replied exactly how I wanted. She said it like she'd said it so many times; I wondered if she remembered it was me, and not her mom or something. She had to know; it couldn't be sleep-talk.

Without saying anything more, I shut the bedroom door.

**Whoa, they love each other! A Seddie dream come true! Ha ha. Here's a news bullentin: for all you who enjoy action stories, I will be coming out with my own! It'll be _iCarly_-themed with everyone's favorite couple! Do I even have to say it? As soon as this or another story is finished, it'll be up. Look out for it! Also, tell me your favorite line in this chapter!**


	23. Parent Practice

**It's almost over! I'm so upset! But I'm glad I wrote it, so, so much! There'll probably be one or two more chapters after this, and it may be mostly fluff because they already admitted their love.**

**Sam's POV**

_He loves me,_ I thought as I laid in my bed, _He_ loves_ me._ It may've been a mistake on Freddie's part to say he loved me but I don't think he didn't mean it. He meant it; he just didn't mean to say it then. I couldn't stop before I responded "I love you, too." He didn't say anything, just left. But I had _great_ dreams. The only thing I didn't enjoy about our little conversation was that I didn't know what to do the next morning. Do I bring it up? Do I pretend nothing happened? Do I kiss him? Do I hug him? Do I say it again? What, what, _what _do I do?

I don't know!

Those and other "Do I's" popped into my head as I dressed for the day. I hated that I'd be alone with him without knowing what to say or do. I had to face him though. So I took a deep breath, opened the door—

"Mommy!" Suddenly a flabby weight of some kind ran at me and I fell as I caught it. I landed on the floor with an "oof!" Blinking, I tried to make out what jumped on me. The grinning pudgy face of Guppy Gibson was close to mine, and I had to laugh. Guppy was wilder than the average six-year-old, like me at that age. Maybe that's why I liked the kid so much.

"Uh, 'Mommy'?" I asked with a grin. He nodded. I heard a knock on my door at that moment, and looked up to see a familiar boy—my husband. I could feel my cheeks flushing but I didn't show any sign of my discomfort.

"Morning, Mommy." Freddie chuckled. I took Guppy by the armpits and lifted him off of me. I then turned to face Freddie with a smirk.

"What's this 'Mommy' chiz?" I asked.

"Day Six of the challenge is to be parents." Freddie responded, "Too hard for you?" Oh, yeah. Well, as long as my kid's as awesome as Guppy, I'm fine. It just wouldn't be realistic because if Freducation and I really had a kid, he'd have _some_ dork blood, which Guppy had none of.

"No," I said, "just checking, Daddy." He grinned at my new nickname for him, and I grinned back. A noise from our "son" got us out of our little daze.

"Are you gonna make out or somethin'?" Guppy asked. We both laughed whilst blushing. Freddie and I glanced at each other, and I swear on my grandmother's grave he was thinking _Maybe later _at me. A shiver went down my spleen.

"Come on, bud," I said, picking up Gibby's baby bro, "let's go do…mom-son stuff, 'k?"

"'K." Guppy replied, putting a tiny arm around my neck. I giggled (wait, _I_ giggled? Must be the mom in me) and followed Freddio out to the living room. The sight on the sofa surprised me: a soccer ball with a few baseballs and an aluminum bat. I didn't even know Freddie _owned_ sporty things. Guppy appeared unmoved by the sports equipment.

"What up?" I said, walking over and grazing my finger over the bat. "I didn't know you owned something so…non-nubbish." Freddie didn't roll his eyes at my comment like usual; instead he picked up the baseball, playing with it unhappily.

"My dad bought it for me on my fourth birthday." he said, "It was the month before he…died." These words hit me like a bullet. Freddie never talked about his dad but I knew he was gone. Still, hearing he died—when Freddie was only four—made me feel sorry for him. I knew the pain of losing a father, except mine just left. I didn't know if he was dead or not, but he was still gone. That was something Freddork and I had in common.

"I-I'm sorry." I stuttered. Freddie gave a small, depressed smile.

"S'okay." he said, "I'll see him again one day. And in the meantime I have my mom, Carly, Spencer, Gibby…" He didn't say it but I knew who he would say next. I didn't push; instead I picked up the soccer ball, put it under my armpit, and jogged to the door.

"C'mon, Fudgeface," I said, "time to play ball!"

"Yeah, Fudgeface!" Guppy said, mimicking me. I laughed out loud while Freddie blushed. He picked up the bat and came over to us, and stopped to poke Guppy in the stomach.

"That's 'Daddy' to you." he said. Guppy rolled his eyes into the back of his head, making us laugh again. Then we headed downstairs to the lobby and out to the park.

* * *

"Kick it to me, son! Kick it right to me!" Freddie was coaxing Guppy to kick the soccer ball which Guppy wasn't up to do. Like his older brother Guppy was no athlete and wasn't up to becoming one. Freddie wasn't David Beckham either but he couldn't grasp the fact Guppy was similar to him in that way. I simply looked on, trying to keep myself from rolling on the floor laughing at the pathetic sight.

"Thanks a lot, _Mom_." Freddie spat sardonically at me. I just smiled, which annoyed him (I'm sure of it and _proud_ of it). As he turned his head back to face our child, a black-and-white sphere smashed him in the face. At that I did burst out into a fit of giggles. Oh geez, it was hilarious! I know, I know, I should be sympathetic considering he was writhing on the grass in pain but dang, it was funny!

The ding-a-ling of an ice cream truck rang through the air and Guppy, instead of coming to his father's aid, toddled over to the frosty treat car. I should've stayed with Freddie but I chased after Guppy. What? Mama loves dessert just as much as meat.

I purchased a creamsicle for my son and a grape popsicle for myself. Only mine was one of those popsicles that come with two sticks to share with another person. Guppy jammed the entire thing in his mouth. Wow, is his mouth _big_.

"Thank you for helping me." Freddie huffed, walking up to us just as the ice cream truck drove off. We licked our treats in response. It took him a second to realize we were eating popsicles; when he did he frowned.

"Ah, you didn't get me one?" he said.

"You snooze, you lose, _bud_." I said, putting emphasis on "bud" like in _The Cosby Show_. He looked down at his tennis shoes, sifting the dirt with his feet. "Are you gonna pout now?"

"_No_!" he shouted, but a red color crept onto his neck. He looks so cute with that shade. Oh, man, am I turning into Carly? So what if I love him—I'm not going crazy about him. However, I guess being the dude's wife I _should_ be nicer. So I held out my double popsicle for him. He looked perplexedly at it first but then broke off half of it and licked it.

"Now don't whine." I said. He sighed at me, and I ruffled his brown hair in an attempt to be cute and irritating. I never fail.

Our happy family went to sit on a bench to eat our cold snacks. Guppy tried to swallow his whole so he could play with the kids going wild on the playground. If you haven't caught on by now, yes, it was the very same playground and bench where Fredwina proposed to me. Coincidence? Perhaps.

"Freddie, can I go over there?" Guppy asked, pointing to the children after he finished up his snack.

"Yes, but today I'm 'Daddy', remember?" Freddie asked.

"Ah, lay off!" Guppy said, and he ran off to the other kids. I had to laugh but Freddie just frowned. Man, that guy needs to get a sense of humor.

The two of us watched as our chubby child swung on the monkey bars and flirted with the girls. He was no Gibby, that's for sure. No Freddie either. Guppy was a total ladies' man. But maybe it's good Freddie isn't; that way he's all mine. Wow, this being in love with Fredweird thing is so strange.

We were so intent on our son that we didn't notice two people walk over to us until they said something. One was a male and the other a female. I recognized both at once: Principal Franklin and Van.

Me and the nerd spun around faster than one could think possible and smiled widely at our visitors. Freddie might not have remembered Van but he sure knew Ted.

"Hello, Principal Franklin," he greeted, "And…"

"Vanessa." I said for him, and he nodded embarrassedly, "But call her Van." I scooted closer to Freddie and patted the empty seats beside me. In the process of scooting nearer to the dork, I pushed him off and he got a mouthful of dirt. After glaring at me, he said "You could apologize, you know."

"Oh, stop whining." I responded, and he mumbled something under his breath before sitting again. Van and Ted chuckled at our antics.

"I'm still shocked how much you two are like my Melissa and I." Ted said.

"Likewise." Van said. Freddie and I both cocked our eyebrows. I was surprised Ted's marriage was like Freddie's and mine, and I'm sure the dork felt the same about Van's.

"You both married your complete opposites?" I asked. Van nodded.

"Yes," Van said, "It must run in the family. My daughter married this man and, from what I've known, he's much like your husband." _Hmm,_ I thought, _I didn't realize how many love/hate relationships there were._

"Wow, that's a lot of Fram-like couples." Freddie joked. We all looked at him like he was mentally unstable.

"'Fram'?" I asked. His smile left.

"Seddie?" he asked in reply to my question. I just rolled my blue eyes at him, making the adults laugh.

"Well, we shouldn't bother you all." Ted said, standing. We said our goodbyes and Ted and his mother-in-law left. At the same time Guppy came running up to us. Freddie lifted him up with a moan (he's not very strong) and we all went back to his car. All the way back to Bushwell Plaza Guppy told us about his new friends and we both acted like it was the most astonishing thing in the world. So that's what it felt like to be a mother. Good practice, I s'pose.

* * *

When we arrived home Freddie went with Guppy up to the iCarly studio for more father-son time. I was going to head up as soon as I got some ham for myself. After I raided the fridge, I went to throw the plastic the ham was wrapped in away. When I tossed it in, I caught sight of a piece of paper with handwriting in red pen. I recalled a certain Thursday night of wooing when I saw this paper. Curiosity overcame me and I snatched it out.

_Dearest Samantha,_ it read, _From the hour of our first meeting I could not picture you as the beauteous creature you were to become. With your sunny coiled ringlets and never-ending pools of cerulean on your face and alluring pink lips I find my heart skipping needed beats. Alas, I found myself blinded by wronged lust for a dear brunette. If only I knew of the great hole in my life and how it could be filled by your love, then perchance I wouldn't have dared a glance towards her. I know now of my mistake and that it's you—only, only you—that I must hold. If you shall allow it, I will take your hand and lead you to places thought unimaginable by my love. Let me take your heart, for you've already stolen mine._ One word summed this entire poem up: corny. Did you expect "beautiful" or "tear-jerking"? In that case I pity you. It was the corniest chiz I'd ever read and was written by the corniest nub I'd ever laid eyes on. Of course I was in love with said corny nub. Oh, well.


	24. Parenthood Part 2

**Freddie's POV**

The day as parents fasted much quicker than expected. Guppy's a pretty neat kiddo but I can't imagine what it'd be like to be his parent 24/7. His antics and wisecracks could get tiring after a few hours. It also didn't help that the kid kicked a soccer ball in my face and had started accustoming to calling me "Fudgeface". I just grinned and bore it because I knew it'd be over soon enough. Only two days were left of the challenge and it appeared both Sam and I would win, meaning Andrea would see no paint drip on anyone.

Sam came up to the studio after awhile of me and Guppy arguing over my masculinity (he claimed I had no muscle and that Gibby was the toughest person he knew—that's really what jumpstarted it) and I thanked her for arriving. She smirked at the blush on my face from the nonstop quarrel with a six-year-old.

"Too hard for you, Pop?" she joked, patting me on the back with too much force. I grimaced, going over to the computer on my tech cart. Guppy started telling Sam about our argument and how he won. I overlooked Sam's sniggers best I could and checked my e-mail: spam, spam, spam, spam, Andrea, spam—wait, who?

Andrea's e-mail address blinked back at me. I was confused on why she was e-mailing me considering we hadn't talked since Monday. _How bad could it be?_ I thought, clicking on it but my hands were unsteady.

_Hello, Freddie. I've been watching you and Sam progress through this challenge online and, if I do say so myself, you two are liking this more than you thought you would. You act very nicely as a married couple—why, if I didn't know better, I'd say you really were newlyweds. It's a very nice thing to see two people change by one, simple thing. I have a lot of friends who are as excited as I am (if not more so) at your sudden feeling change. You may've seen them at your wedding; they loved coming back and saying they went to "Seddie's wedding"._ Seddie? They had a name for us? I was only kidding earlier with Principal Franklin and his mother-in-law. _I'm looking forward to visiting you all at the end of it all. Until then.—Andrea_

"Hey, Sam?" I said. Sam—who had been giving her baby boy a piggyback—set him down and walked over to me.

"What up?" she asked.

"That Andrea chick's gonna visit us." I said. Her eyes enlarged in surprise, but she didn't appear overly shocked.

"Okay…" she said, "That's a bit…stalker-ish." Stalker-ish wasn't the adjective I had in mind but Sam saying it kind of scared me. What if she was some creepy stalker person who kidnapped Sam and I or something? If she was anything like Nora, it'd be the worst-case scenario. Wait…what if she _was_ Nora using a fake alias? Oh…oh no!

"What if she's Nora?" I said, my face paling, "She could be using a fake name so we'd let her come, and then she'd take us back to that sound booth of horror!" Sam held a hand to my mouth, shushing me. Her face had a smirk on it that said "You're a paranoid freak" but in a cute, loving way. Something told me every time she insulted me from then on it'd be in a cute, loving way with a little malice thrown in here and there.

"Hold your horses, cowboy." she laughed, "I'm sure Nora wouldn't be that careful. Besides, why don't we enjoy the time we have left as husband and wife before it's up?" With that, she tugged me away from the e-mail and over to Guppy, who again launched into a tale of his superiority. I even donated a chuckle at the way he told his funny (yet insulting) story about me. It was like we really were one happy family.

* * *

Later that evening Guppy borrowed Spencer's bedroom for a sleepover. Clad in his footie pajamas with the dragons on them, he crawled between the covers of Spence's giant bed and looked back at us with a smile. I tucked him in as Sam looked over us with a motherly glint in her blue eyes. I reckon she'd make a good mother one day.

"G'night, Gup." I said, patting his head.

"Sleep tight." Sam said, doing the same. Guppy grinned at us before closing his eyes and going to sleep. We turned his light off and tiptoed out of the room, shutting the door behind us.

Once we were in the living room, I found it was the first time Sam and I were alone since my error in telling her I loved her. Considering how the last time I said something on accident went down, I figured she was feeling awkward and faking like she wasn't. However, Sam was always a square peg you tried to fit in a round hole; no matter how hard you tried, you could never understand her.

"So…" I said, "That was fun."

"Yeah." she responded, no awkward tone to her voice unlike mine, "Guppy's a cute kid." I bobbed my head to agree, looking away from her as the sweat began to drip from the apprehension. She wasn't nervous in any way (an act, perchance) so, of course, I had to be the edgy one. That's me—Fredweird the Edgy Nub.

"Um—" I started, but Sam's agitated grunt stopped me before I could say something comprehensible.

"Aren't you gonna kiss me?" she asked. I began apologizing before I processed what she said; when I did I was glad, but confused.

"What?" I said, always the intellectual. She rolled her eyes, hands upon her hips.

"In every afterschool special, by now you would've given a touchy-feely speech and kissed me. Don't you watch television?" she explained. I was flabbergasted at her sudden outburst; she was yelling at me for not kissing her? Really, if she wanted to, she could've just _asked_.

"So you want a kiss." I said, not asking.

"No duh, oatmeal-for-brains." she said. She insults me, yells at me, and then wants a kiss—this describes the girl I love. I couldn't ask for more.

I chuckled silently to myself, leaned as she did too and…well, I don't think I need to elaborate.

* * *

"_Help!_" This cry of terror resonated down the hall to the spare bedroom. Sam and I popped up from our slumber as though we'd never fell asleep in the first place. I went to ask her what she thought it was when she leapt from her side of the bed and ran out. I'd never seen her run so fast since the last time ham was served for dinner. It was like she knew who shouted it and why. Figuring I'd better follow, I got up and hurried to where she went.

Sobs from Spencer's bedroom notified me where she was. When I went in, Sam was lying in bed with Guppy, cradling him as tears cascaded down his face. My heart cracked in two at the spectacle; I didn't know what was happening but the look on their faces made me feel very dejected. I walked over to them as quietly as I could and slid under the covers. I put my hand on Sam's back as to get closer to them while she rocked him forwards and backwards in an attempt to calm him down. I asked in a hushed tone what was going on.

"Guppy had a nightmare." she whispered. Guppy, sniffling, nodded as he wiped another tear.

"There was a huge monster chasing me." he said, "It had five heads and big fangs and said it was gonna eat me." He couldn't finish for he again started bawling. Sam shushed him with gentleness and rocked him again. I swear, this side of Sam was unthinkable but so, so admirable. I wanted to be as good a parent as she.

"_Lonesome stranger_," Sam began singing. I looked over to her at the revelation of such a hypnotic voice. "w_ith a crowd around you. I see who you are. You joke, they laugh 'til the show is over. Then you fall so hard._" Guppy's eyelids drooped lower as she sang until they were shut and he was again dreaming. Sam kept rocking him, in case he wasn't fully asleep.

"What's that song?" I asked. She shrugged.

"I wrote it," she said, "just now." _Dang, she's beautiful, motherly, and _now_ a songwriting genius?_ I thought, _I sure know how to pick 'em._ Sam and I both got out of the bed, patted our son-for-the-day on the head, and went back to our room.

**The song, if you couldn't tell, is _Homeless Heart_ by the always amazing Jennette McCurdy. I'm sad to say this story will most likely have only two more chapters, including an epilogue. It's been very nice with you all, and I thank you for reading and making me feel like I do something right.**


	25. Not Like A Fairytale

**Sam's POV**

Sunday morning I got up and made my way to the bedroom where Guppy was. When I drew back the covers he wasn't there. I called out to him but no reply came. Fear welled up inside of me; Guppy was a rambunctious fellow, and if he got five minutes alone and awake, he could do anything. Getting lost was an option I desperately prayed he hadn't chosen. I found myself connected to him in a way that felt like we truly were a mother and a son. But I was more afraid of losing someone's biological kid than my spiritual one right then.

"Fredpus!" I shouted in the direction of the spare bedroom. We shared the room now that we'd made amends—and quite possibly were an item. He hadn't asked me out or to be his girlfriend but I figured the kiss we had meant yeah, we were a thing.

He rustled in the bed but stayed put. I growled to myself; boyfriend or not, if he ignored me he was in for a pounding. I sprinted over to his side and lowered my head so it was next to his ear. I breathed onto it very coolly and then I raised my voice to scream "Wake up, you lazy sack!" The nearness of us plus the high voice equaled him jumping like a scared animal from the bed, Galaxy Wars PJs and all, onto the floor. With a groan he got up on his knees and looked to where I was, frowning.

"Geez…" he muttered, standing, "What up with that?"

"I can't find Guppy, Dipthong!" I yelled. Realization struck him and his brown eyes widened; in a flash he was running to Gup's room. When he saw the kid wasn't there he started to sputter incoherent things, looking terrified.

"Wh-Where is he?" he said. I slapped his arm hard, glaring at him like he was stupid—which he was.

"If I knew where he was, you think I'd yell that I can't find him?" I said, "Grow some common sense, will you?" Instead of glaring at me or rolling his eyes he ran into the bedroom, shouting the boy's name. I wanted to slap him again for being so idiotic as to try what I did, but he stopped before I could make a move, his gaze on the dresser.

"Did you notice this?" he asked, turning with a piece of paper in his hand. _Uh-oh,_ I thought, snatching it away. It looked like chicken scratch but I could tell that it said _Gibby take me home._ Carly probably gave Gibby the house key and he came in during the morning to take his baby brother back. The question was why didn't he wait until we were up?

"Oops." I said, "Guess I…missed that." A smirk grew on his face, and I wanted to punch it. "Wipe that smirk off." I ordered. He didn't try to at all, and instead walked past me to the living room.

"Ah, you're just sour I found it and you didn't." he said.

"Can it, Benson!" I said, but I was smirking myself, "And next we'll talk about them dorky pajamas. No man of mine is gonna wear Nug-Nug to bed." I knew that'd make him blush and blush he did, before going to the bedroom and switching into his ordinary polo and khakis. I had already gotten into my Penny-T and denim jeans afore checking on Guppy. Why Gibby didn't wait until Freddie and I were awake still nagged at me, but I shrugged it off for then.

As I walked over to the kitchen a knock resounded at the front door. Curious, I moved over and opened it. Gibby stood there with Carly (predictable) and Guppy between the two of them. I found it odd that he had brought his baby brother along, especially after stealing him away in the night. I was about to greet them when Gibby slung his arms around me.

"Hi, Mom!" he shouted, crushing my back with his powerful grip. Though he doesn't look it, Gib is pretty strong. The whole "Mom" thing confused me, however. It wasn't until I remembered yesterday when Guppy hugged me and called me Mommy. Gibby must've been our child all grown up, and Carly was his wife and Guppy his son.

"Er, hi…son." I said, patting his back awkwardly. "You're, um, sorta choking me." At this Gibby released me, smiling with concern.

"Sorry," he said, "guess I don't know my own strength." Carly, her hand in Guppy's, walked up and gave me a tiny hug too.

"Hi, Mrs. Benson." she said. Her face looked weird as she said that. Who could blame her? Referring to _me_ as a Benson had to feel bizarre.

"Grammy!" Guppy shouted, and hugged my leg. The way he said it was adorable and I patted his head. I didn't really like the grandma status but at least I wouldn't gain wrinkles until another forty or so years.

"Hey, what about _me_?" yelled another baby-sounding voice. It sounded strangely like…oh, no…Carly went behind herself and pushed in a stroller that contained a baby with a giant head and green footie PJs. It was Spencer dressed up as Baby Spencer like in the skits we did on iCarly. Something told me he was the Gibsons' other child. First pretending to be pregnant and now this? Spencer needs help.

"Hi, you wittle fweak of nature!" I greeted, poking his stomach (or, rather, the plush doll that was his baby body). He pouted his lips at the pressure I put into my poke. Before the pressure could get any harder and more painful, Fredpimple came down. Upon seeing the happy family in his living room, his face scrunched up in puzzlement.

"Dad!" Gibby yelled, running at him. He went up and gave another bone-crushing hug. Freddie got blue in the face after awhile of Gibby damaging his spinal cord. Once he let go Freddie began coughing, looking out of breath. _What a wimp,_ I thought, shaking my head at his weakness. Guess I'd wear the pants in the relationship.

Freddie smiled at Gibby through watery eyes and went up to hug Carly, smile at Guppy, and cringe at Spencer. He turned to me upon seeing his rather ugly grandchild, his expression reading _What the heck?_ I ignored it and dragged Carly over to the couch where we conversed.

"So, how're you and Freddie holding up?" she asked, gesturing to the nub with her thumb, who was talking to Gibby and the "kids".

"Um…" Truth be told I didn't know where to start. So much happened since the last visit from them. Freddie said he loved me, I said I loved him, we kissed, he heard me sing…really, it felt like a lifetime had passed since we actually hated each other. "I'll give you a kick run-through," I said, and she nodded, "When you guys left he told me good night and…'I love you'." Her eyes widened and a squeal came from her mouth. Although it was Freddie, me talking about love and guys excited her because she wanted me as happy as she was with Gibby.

"OMG, Sam!" she said, using her Valley Girl-esque language, "This is, like, _remarkable_!"

"I know, I know." I said, "It'll be even more 'remarkable' if you shut up." At this Carly quieted, but she was bursting at the seams with excitement. "Anyway, I said I loved him back, and then we hung out with Guppy. After the kid went to bed, we were standing around nervously until I made him kiss me. But he seemed to enjoy it. Then, when Gup had a nightmare, we comforted him and I sang him a lullaby." She was tightlipped but I knew Carly was agonized at lack of speech. It'd be like breaking the Hoover Dam if I did it, but I said she could talk again.

"Oh my gosh, that is so, so, so, so cute, I can't believe that! You love each other, aw, and kissed, even better! Was it good, bad, or okay? Wait, you sing? Since when? I can't believe it! What song did you—?"

"Time's up!" I shouted, shoving a pillow at her mouth. She laughed while wrenching the pillow away, and smiled at the slight blush upon my cheeks at her noisy exclamation. It had alerted the rest of the group who came over by us. Thankfully Freddie was grinning ear to ear instead of looking embarrassed. Man, he's going to be a beast boyfriend.

* * *

Carly and I continued to talk about my previous day and night. She kept begging for more so I told her as much as I could. Soon the morning drifted into early noon, and the boys looked anxious.

"If you're done with catching her up, why don't we have supper?" Freddie asked.

"Now you're talking, Fredley!" I shouted, leaping from my seat and running to the kitchen. Everyone followed and sat at their seats; Freddie went to the refrigerator and pulled out a luscious-looking ham and Carly went to set up our drinks and plates. The ham was leftover with half the meat stripped away (probably by me) but it was enough for now. I reached over to grab some when Freddork told us all to wait before eating.

"This better be good, Freddie." I said, not a joking bone in my body, "You _don't_ wanna see me hungry." He knew so I trusted he wouldn't disappoint. He stood up from the chair next to me, cleared his throat, and rose his bottle of root beer.

"This has been quite the event," he said, "being Sam's husband for an entire week. At first I was shocked and horrified I'd have to act like I loved her. Who could blame me, she physically, mentally, and emotionally abused me, something I doubt will change. But, over the course of time, I found she was more enjoyable than expected and even liked me more than I thought. Pretending to be in love with her sorta changed me in one of those cheesy ways. I'm not trying to sound like a total chick flick kind of guy but it's true. She's different. She's unique. She's special. She's Sam. And, I dunno, I guess I…I guess I love her. So…a toast. To finding love in the most unexpected of people."

"Here, here!" Gibby cried loudly, pecking Carly on the cheek. As we drank our sodas I realized how much life isn't like a fairytale. Freddie was a tech geek and I was a rough tomboy yet we fell in love (after quite a bit of hate, however). And Carly was a popular girl who everyone liked; she could've had her pick of any guy but she chose wacky, shirtless Gibby. Neither of our romances were typical but that's life. Life is unpredictable and unexpected, but that doesn't make it bad.

Freddie kissed me before I had time to snatch any ham. If anyone told me he'd kiss me and I'd _like_ it before, I would've called for a straightjacket. But now it wasn't weird. No, it was still weird…

Except now it was weirdly perfect.

**WAAAAAAAAAA! It's over after the epilogue! I just want to thank you all one more time for sticking with this story and loving it and reading it. It's my most popular story (over 400 reviews! _400_!) and I couldn't believe it at first. I don't think I'll ever achieve such a staggering feat on this site with a fiction again but I'm crossing my fingers in hopes I will. Thank you and I hope you all read and love my past and future stories!**


	26. Epilogue

"...and that's why you should never bathe a cat with bubble bath!" Sam said enthusiastically to the camera. Carly nodded beside her while a sniffing Gibby took Frothy away, picking at the scrapes along his skin. Carly patted her beau on the back to show a little concern, and he smiled back before leaving. Sam didn't pay any mind to the boy whom they scarred (figuratively _and_ literally) for life. Freddie was just happy they had used Gibby as their comedy minion instead of him, as Sam originally offered, claiming Frothy _liked_ him (which was a big, fat, stinking lie—the last time he went over to the Puckett home he had been notified to hide any skin from sight).

"Thanks for watching!" his psychotic girlfriend said, "And always eat your—"

"Hold it!" Carly interjected before Sam could sign off by saying anything outlandish. The blonde looked in perplexity to her brunette pal. Carly's grin was hard to keep suppressed, causing more confusion for Sam and Freddie both. Neither knew what Carly was about to announce—and, to be frank, they were a little afraid to hear it.

Carly turned to the camera. "As you all know, a bet has been going on for a week here at iCarly." Sam smiled in understanding, as did Freddie from behind the camera; they knew all that had happened during the challenge of the week so there would be nothing to embarrass or anger them.

"Yes!" Sam said, holding out her arms, "I'm sure you're all waiting to hear which one of us cracked first. Well…neither! We both made it through the fire and flames and with something to show for it." At this Freddie turned the screen onto him. Sam walked up behind him and gave the boy an affectionate hug with a complimentary cheek-kiss. When she pulled away she hit the _Applause_ button on her blue remote. Carly clapped herself as he turned the camera back on the brunette and the blonde who ran back in front.

"Yes, they are a couple!" Carly said, and then made a face the kid from _Home Alone_ would envy. "The world is ending!"

"And guess what?" Sam joked, "I didn't even puke _once_ kissing him! Well, except for that one time…" She looked up ponderingly, pretending to think of the false moment she regurgitated at the taste of his lips. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, which had become increasingly harder since beginning their relationship.

"But what I want to do is introduce you to the person who caused it all: Andrea!" Carly said, gesturing to the doorway. Freddie and Sam had forgotten she was coming, and they watched the door, eager to see who had been the angel on earth who'd gotten them together…

In walked a man who was very lanky. His eyes were wide and wild, and his mouth was open as he whooped and hollered. The two teens' mouths fell open at him; it was him this entire time? Yes, it was indeed the elder brother of Carly Shay—Spencer—who owned the identity of Andrea.

"You?" Sam said, "_You_?"

"Me!" Spencer cried, jumping up and down like a scatterbrained child. Sam's eyes went from a look of surprise to one of fury.

"It's _your_ fault we got banned from the Cheesecake Warehouse!" she shouted, making Spencer wince and hide behind Carly, "It's _your_ fault I had to live with a dork for four or more days, that he lost a hundred-something dollars, and that I didn't get that waiter guy's phone number! I ought to kill you!" Carly attempted to shield her brother from the wrath of her best friend. Freddie prepared to set down the camera and calm her down when she closed her eyes and put her hands up.

"But I won't." she said, "You know why? Because of you, I have a great boyfriend and a new respect for family." She smiled at Spencer, who smiled back and stepped out from behind his sister. He opened his arms for a hug and Sam gave him one, but not without whispering "Make sure you sleep with one eye open."

Spencer backed away from the Puckett and hopped behind Carly again. Sam smirked happily and moved over to the car protruding from the wall. Everyone watched her closely as she pulled out a purple paint bucket. Freddie's eyes widened as she prepared to splash the thick paint all over. "Dont...Sam...Sam, don't—!" But alas his words did nothing, and, in a creative way to sign off the show, Sam splashed the entire thing of paint on the lens cover.

Freddie grinned as the video ended. Every day he watched it and every day his wife called him a nub. He did it because his daughter loved to watch it. Well, that was just an excuse. It reminded him of the first time he ever proposed to his love, married her etc.; then he'd compare it to the actual _legal_ moments. Every time he did he decided that the first time was always, always, _always_ the best.

**I apologize for the shortness but I didn't think I had to go out with a huge bang. Maybe just a little jingle. Okay, I sound stupid. Anyway, it has come to an end! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy everything else I have and will write.**


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